Trial and Error
by Absidoodle
Summary: In their 6th year, emotions and feelings are running wild for Harry, Ron and Hermione...and Ginny. What will happen as their friendships, fears and worries all change, and the past catches up with the future?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ** this is my first fic, so please be nice! I'm writing it in big chunks but putting it up chapter by chapter, and I've decided I'll only keep going if people review...no point writing when no-one's reading! So pls review if you like it and want more...

It's set at the start of the 6th book. I try to stick to the facts to start with but it won't be the same all the way through obviously or it wouldn't be entertaining! It'll swap POVs as well but it'll be obvious in the story.

**Disclaimer **obviously these characters AREN'T mine...it's **FAN**fiction...

**Chapter 1**

Hermione rushed after Ron, only a couple steps behind on the narrow staircase, and burst into the bedroom which was until recently shared by the twins. She swung around the doorpost just in time to see Ron bounce onto the bed and hit a black and tousle-haired figure, saying something excitedly in an unusually high voice.

"Ron, don't hit him!" She cried as she too landed on the bed. Harry reached out for his glasses, looking a little lost, and slid them onto his face. Hermione reached out and hugged him and immediately Ron launched into what looked like a game of twenty-questions. Hermione felt a little sorry for the poor boy who was clearly still half-asleep, but she knew even she couldn't stop Ron's chattering. She looked at him fondly, taking in his red hair and freckles and gangly frame; between the Weasleys and Harry, she knew she had all the siblings and more she didn't have at home. The Burrow was one place she felt truly happy; although she had only been here two days (or was it three?) it felt like a lifetime. She couldn't wait to go back to Hogwarts, obviously, but she was determined to enjoy the rest of the summer first.

As if her thought had been a command, Ginny came into the room to greet Harry too. She danced in like a ballerina, her hair flowing down her back in straight waves of gorgeous auburn. Hermione caught herself staring and quickly looked away, gesturing for Ginny to sit next to her on the end of the bed. Catching Ginny's mood, which was written all over her face, both the others fell silent. Hermione looked up and drank in Harry's familiar features. He caught her looking and gave a small, uncertain smile; she returned it, blushing, and berating herself. She knew her and Harry were just good friends, but she also knew not everyone knew that and the gossip was bad enough as it was because she chose to hang with Harry and Ron. Through thick and thin she had stuck with them; that didn't mean any of them would get together. Hermione shook her head, feeling her bushy brown hair move around her, and thought how immature and naive people could be.

As she brought herself back to the present, the brunette picked up on the conversation and heard Ginny finish a sentence. "...as if I'm about three." Hermione did not have to ask who she was complaining about; it had been the subject of many a night-time talk for them since her arrival.

"I know, she's so full of herself." Hermione agreed.

"Don't be so hard on her!" Ron objected.

"Who...?" Harry started to ask – but his question was answered for him when the door burst open. Hermione felt the duvet beneath her jerk violently and found herself on the floor as a beautiful woman put a breakfast tray across Harry's knees and kissed him on both cheeks, saying something to him. Hermione pulled herself up and dusted herself off, then turned to help Ginny; she wasn't the only one who had hit the deck, clearly.

She rolled her eyes at Ron's slightly unfocused eyes and slack-jawed expression. Harry too looked a bit dazzled. Hermione exchanged a glance with Ginny, both rolling their eyes, before becoming aware of Mrs Weasley stood in the doorway, wearing a similar expression to Ginny's. Hermione almost giggled.

Hermione sat at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, trying to hold back the tears. Mrs Weasley fussed around her, trying to remove the stubborn bruise, but Hermione was more worried about the impeding O.W.L results.

"You're actually disappointed, aren't you?" Hermione heard Ron ask from what seemed like a great distance away. Hermione shook her head, but she couldn't help but feel a slight stab of regret as she looked at that one black 'E'. Ginny pulled her into a hug and she held her fast, blushing furiously. She didn't want to let go.

**A/N: **Umm. Please review so I know whether to carry on – I promise it will get better! The first chapter's always the hardest...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Hermione." Ginny whispered into the dark. She couldn't sleep; something was wrong with Hermione and she needed to know if she was okay. She heard the older girl roll over and a barely disguised sniffle.

"I know you're crying." Ginny tried again.

"Damn. I was hoping you wouldn't notice. I've never seen you cry." Hermione answered with a weak attempt at bravado. Ginny smiled despite herself.

"That doesn't matter." She said, jumping out of her bed and sliding under Hermione's duvet. She felt the older girl tense and shuffle over, and Ginny lay down beside her. "Come on, what's up?"

Hermione shook her head. Ginny tutted. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" she asked gently. Hermione nodded and the redhead girl felt her relax slightly. There was silence for a while, until Hermione finally spoke.

"Do you remember when you were so nervous around Harry you used to knock things over? And blush _all the time_?" she whispered. Ginny looked at her in surprise; that was years ago.

"And you gave me fantastic advice to loosen up and relax, and wait for him? I remember," she said, flashing her friend a cheeky smile. Hermione smiled back, weakly. "Why?" Ginny asked curiously.

After some hesitation, Hermione answered so quietly Ginny could barely hear her. "Do you still like him?"

It was Ginny's turn to hesitate. "I don't think so." She said carefully. "I think it was just a crush. He's more like a big brother now. Why, do you?" she suddenly turned Hermione's question around, wondering if this was the reason for her strange behaviour.

Hermione laughed quietly. "Of course not!" she smiled. Ginny didn't want to believe her, but Hermione's eyes were earnest and she knew she was telling the truth.

"What's wrong, then?" Ginny asked. Hermione immediately sobered up again and shook her head.

"I'd rather not talk about it, Gin. I appreciate it; I really do, but...just not now, yeah?"

Ginny nodded, but made no effort to move. As she dropped off to sleep, she felt Hermione's big, warm hand enclose her own and smiled to herself, hoping her friend would take comfort from her presence. No matter what the problem was, she hoped it wouldn't take long for Hermione to tell her; her concern was only going to grow.

In the morning Ginny found herself on the wrong side of her room. She looked around in confusion and her gaze landed on the pale face next to her; the weak rays of the morning sun highlighted her cheekbones and some colours in her hair Ginny hadn't even noticed existed. Her skin was pale and perfectly smooth and without thinking Ginny reached out to brush her fingers over Hermione's exposed cheek; she caught herself just in time and sat there, frozen in place, staring stupidly at the face below her. _How haven't I noticed before?_ She wondered to herself. _Hermione Granger is beautiful._

There was a soft knock at the door, which made Ginny jump, and Mrs Weasley popped her head around it. She looked surprised to see Ginny in her current position, but simply beckoned. "I need some help, Ginny, would you mind?" Ginny got quietly off the bed and fetched some clothes to change.

"What were you doing over there?" Mrs Weasley asked casually.

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Hermione was upset last night. I stayed with her. What do you think, mum, really?" she asked, shaking her hair back.

Mrs Weasley shrugged and mumbled something, then continued, "Anyway. Fleur's out today, thankfully, so you can help me; Hermione can too if you like, it'll do you two good to get some time away from all the boys. You can go shopping for me." She said briskly.

Ginny smiled. A day with the girl she considered her best friend, with no irritating siblings or stress parents, in the loveliest street in the wizarding world of England. She definitely wasn't going to complain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hope you're all enjoying it **** I'm loving writing!**

**Thankyou for the reviews people they make me happy :D any suggestions pm me!**

**Still no own...i didn't own the last one either I just forgot to out this on it... :/**

**Chapter 3**

Ginny dragged Hermione out of bed as soon as she dared and happily explained her mother's idea. Hermione's eyes still looked red and Ginny couldn't help but wonder how long she'd lain awake after Ginny had fallen asleep the night before. However she smiled when Ginny finally got all her words out and pulled herself out of bed to get dressed.

"How are we getting there? Floo powder?" she asked when she was ready.

"No, I thought we'd enjoy the journey a little more." Ginny answered. She wouldn't elaborate.

They left The Burrow together, walking through the fields leisurely and enjoying the view. Ginny relaxed as a cool breeze played around them, ruffling red and brown hair alike and giving some respite from the burning heat.

Hermione asked again how they were travelling but Ginny would not be rushed. Instead she responded with her own question.

"Are you okay? You still don't seem quite as bubbly as normal."

"I'm fine, Gin, honestly – or I will be."

They reached the end of the lane and Ginny nodded, and then suddenly punched her right hand forward.

BANG!

Hermione screamed as the triple-decker Knight Bus appeared out of nowhere in front of them. Ginny smiled happily.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, I will be your conduc-"

"Thank you. Diagon Alley please." Ginny cut across the balding conductor and climbed onto the bus, Hermione close behind. Ginny led Hermione up two flights of stairs as the bus trundled serenely through the countryside to the topmost empty floor. They sat at the back in two of the big, comfy arm chairs and after a couple of moments there was another resounding BANG. The countryside surrounding The Burrow was replaced with a narrow street with poor lighting.

"We'll be a while, so get comfy." Ginny said as Hermione peeled herself off the window. "So, you were saying."

"What was I saying?" Hermione grinned.

"That you would be okay?"

"Yeah. I will be, honestly...I promise."

"Mm. Well, you know where I am if you want to talk. And 'Mione, I'd appreciate it if you did – I worry about you otherwise!"

"Oh Ginny. Please don't make me feel guilty. You know you're the first person I'd come to. Give me a few days and maybe I will, okay?"

BANG! Hermione slipped down a little.

Ginny smiled to herself. "You know I'm always here for you, right? You really are my closest friend."

Hermione blinked as she sat back up. She knew the two had grown close, especially since Ginny came to her about Harry ad through the DA, but she hadn't been expecting that.

"Apart from people at Hogwarts, of course." she replied with an uncertain smile.

"No. Including them. They're people to hand around with, Hermione, you're a proper friend."

Hermione smiled and felt a tear roll down her face. She dashed it away angrily and looked out of the window at an unfamiliar landscape, determined not to let any more tears betray her fragility. She felt Ginny take her hand.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

Hermione turned around again. "I know you didn't." She smiled, looking into the redhead's brown eyes. She noticed flecks of green inside them. "I know, Ginny."

BANG. This time Hermione managed to stay sat up.

Ginny suddenly became very conscious that she still had hold of Hermione's hand, and hurriedly let go. She looked up to find Hermione scrutinising her face. As Ginny caught her eye the older blushed, just as –

BANG. Hermione fell off her chair, while trying to clear her head of invading and foreign thoughts. As she had watched Ginny she had realised just how many shades were in her hair, how pale her skin was and how her freckles contrasted. And she had thought, _Ginny is really really pretty. _When Ginny caught her eye she had been trying to clear her head, and she couldn't stop the heat rising in her cheeks.

With a final BANG, the Knight Bus trundled to a stop outside the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny jumped up and walked purposefully over to the stairs, looking back and smiling as she disappeared. Hermione took a deep breath and leaned her forehead against the window before she got up. _What is wrong with me?_ She wondered. She never had been one for heart-to-hearts and sudden epiphanies, but both had happened in the last few minutes. She pulled herself up and strode to the stairs, just as a new thought overwhelmed her; she had never felt this way about anyone else before, not ever, but wasn't Ginny the sister she never had in the Muggle world?

"Of course." she said out loud, laughing. The continued her thought non-verbally. _I'm not going mad, or soppy or whatever. I'm just growing closer to Ginny. She really is like my little sister, even though she often acts older..._

When Hermione rejoined Ginny downstairs, it was to find the younger girl looking at her with concern. She smiled brightly, feeling happier than she had in days, and Ginny smiled back, looking relieved. They thanked the conductor and jumped onto the cobbles, watching how the Muggles didn't even notice them, the Knight bus or the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny started walking and when Hermione didn't follow, she pulled her along by her hand.

Passing through the Leaky Cauldron was difficult because it was so full, but they managed it eventually. Ginny counted the bricks out and reached for her wan, but Hermione beat her to it and suddenly the street opened out before them. It somehow looked brighter and sunnier than the London on the other side of the pub.

As they walked, the two girls subconsciously relaxed.

"Where first?" Hermione asked.

"Um, I think Gringotts would be a good idea..." Ginny said sarcastically. Hermione blushed again.

"Shut up!" she grinned. Ginny smiled, thinking about how much she enjoyed spending time with the older brunette. _I've only got brothers._ She thought, _but Hermione's sweet, funny, smart and pretty, everything I want to be. I look up to her and I trust her; she's as good as my sister. Except that she can't fly...!_

Ginny blushed. She wasn't used to thinking these things at all, but resolved to get Hermione on a broom before the end of the holidays. Two weeks ought to be long enough...

Hermione hated every moment of the Gringotts visit. She had nothing against goblins, but she didn't like them much; and the carts were like a horrible sort of rollercoaster. To add to that, the Weasley's vault was almost completely empty. Hermione's own was really quite full; her parents always paid some in, as much as they normally would in pounds but obviously changed into Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. She didn't know when they managed it, but they did, and she never spent much of it – their wages were high, as they were both private practice dentists. Her own savings were also there, and that too was a lot of money.

Mrs Weasley trusted Ginny to go to their vault herself, but Hermione wasn't prepared for the amount there; Ginny checked the rest of the vault before sweeping more than half of the remaining galleons, and most of the Sickles and Knuts, into the large purse Mrs Weasley had given her.

The worst part was when Hermione's own vault was opened. There was a split down the middle to walk, but the rest of the vault floor was covered in mounds of coins to around waist height. Hermione knew there was a small fortune there, plus some, but she didn't want Ginny to see. But how could she hide it?

The journey back to the main entrance was a long and awkward one. Hermione had heard Ginny's gasp when her vault door had been opened and she didn't want to talk about it.


	4. Chapter 4

**This is still pretty short but I promise the next one will be longer, as Blackiee requested! There's a few POVs too, but hopefully it's not too confusing.**

**Disclaimer: Me no own...**

**Chapter 4**

Ginny and Hermione spent a happy day buying all their school stuff, as well as Harry's and Ron's, and then just wandering around and looking at everything.

Hermione found it mostly enjoyable, but there were awkward moments too. Ginny gasped as she spotted a new broom in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, and at the cute but rather strange-looking spectacled owl in Eeylops Owl Emporium, and at a gorgeous set of goldish dress robes in the window of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Ginny also said that her own black robes were getting a little short, but she made no move to visit the shop. Hermione at this point looked at her sadly, before making up her mind.

"Let's go and try some on then." She said firmly.

"You know it's pointless, Hermione. Waste of time." Ginny said almost bitterly. "It's not like I'll be able to take them home afterwards."

"No. But I will." Hermione responded. She caught the look on Ginny's face. "It's not charity, Ginny! It's your best friend buying you an early Christmas present. 'Kay?"

Ginny didn't look convinced. Hermione dragged her along anyway.

* * *

Ron yawned. Forcing his eyes open, he looked around to see Harry sat cross-legged on his bed, fully dressed and munching a triangle of buttered toast. Stifling another yawn, Ron asked him,

"How long you been up, mate? Should've woken me."

Harry smirked. "You were sleeping like a baby." He knew this comment would annoy Ron and indeed he scowled. "I thought I'd leave you a little longer, and give you a warning: Mrs Weasley's set you to garden de-gnoming as soon as you're up."

Ron groaned. "Why can't Ginny do it?"

"She and Hermione have gone to Diagon Alley to get our school stuff. They were up first." Harry replied around his last mouthful of toast. Ron grumbled a bit more, then heaved himself up and out of bed and staggered towards the bathroom. Harry grinned; Ron really annoyed him sometimes, but he was a great friend.

* * *

Ginny left the robe shop feeling better about the school year, but bad about letting Hermione pay for her new robes. She didn't like letting other people buy her things for no reason; and she could only imagine what her mother was going to say.

She was absorbed in her own thoughts but she couldn't help but glance wistfully towards the owls as they walked away. The brooms too were hard not to gaze at; they were so beautiful!

Hermione didn't miss the glances and she sighed unhappily. She longed to help Ginny, but she just didn't know how...they rounded a corner and Gringotts came back into view. Hermione had a brainwave.

Ginny didn't quite know how she found herself in Flourish and Blotts looking for a new quill for Hermione, a couple of fat gold galleons glistening in her fist, and with strict instructions to meet her at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour once she'd finished; she scanned the shelves blindly, looking for something roughly quill-shaped. Shaking her head slightly, she reached for a magnificent white spell-checking quill, although she was sure Hermione had never made a spelling mistake in her life. She checked the price; it would do.

Hermione was hurrying up the alley towards Gringotts. She was oblivious to her surroundings, only one thought coherent in her brain. She hurried up the marble steps for a second time that day, and then made her way more slowly towards the counters, eying the rubies and sapphires, and of course the goblins.

* * *

Ron grunted with the effort as he let go of the gnome he was swinging and heard it squeal shrilly as it flew over the hedge. He rubbed his nose, leaving a muddy mark, and looked around for any more.

"Think we're about done, mate." He called to Harry, who was getting rather good; his gnome flew ten feet up and about the same across, screaming more shrilly than Ron's had. Ron grinned, and then massaged his stomach as it groaned loudly.

"Lunchtime?" Harry asked with an answering smile, dodging Ron's muddy hands as they swung round to clip his shoulder. They wandered indoors, relishing the shade, and found Mrs Weasley loading a huge plate with piles of sandwiches. Harry grinned; Mrs Weasley was still trying to fatten him up. Not that he was complaining – it was nice to feel full once in a while.

After lunch, the boys decided to fly. They couldn't really play Quidditch one-on-one, but Harry needed some practice; he was Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor, the cause for the planned celebration tonight (as well as his birthday), and he thought he'd better brush up on his rusty flying and catching at least. Ron had been only too happy to agree.

Walking down to the shed, Ron enjoyed the heat playing on his skin. Harry already had his broom – _a __**Firebolt**__, I wish, _Ron thought – as it had been in the house; now Ron just needed to find his own. He hoped there weren't any spiders in the shed, but he knew there probably were. Despite the heat, he gave a small shiver.

There were indeed spiders in the shed, but Harry took one look at Ron's face and walked in himself to pick up his friend's broom. He dusted the cobwebs off it, flicked a pretty big spider onto the grass, and handed it over. Ron grinned.

"Cheers, mate."

Harry smiled back. He needed Ron in a good mood before dinner.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: none of this is mine, all J. K. Rowling's. If you didn't already know that, I pity you. Anyways ;)**

**Chapter 5**

Ginny had finished her first ice cream and begun her second before Hermione appeared. Florean himself presented Hermione with her own, waving away the coins she offered him and her stuttered thanks, and left them to it.

Ginny handed over the boxed quill (which Hermione studied before nodding in approval) and looked curiously at the older girl.

"Where've you been?" she asked.

"Um. Magical Menagerie, had to get some stuff for Crookshanks." Hermione said without meeting Ginny's eyes.

Ginny didn't argue. It hurt that Hermione didn't trust her enough to tell her the truth, but she also knew everyone was entitled to their secrets. The more she pushed her, the less likely she was to tell her.

Hermione relaxed when Ginny didn't question her further, and smiled inwardly. She was pleased with the day's work.

* * *

Mrs Weasley squeaked and almost dropped her wand as the fire turned green and an enraged _BOO Boo boo_ filled the previously silent kitchen. She quickly flicked her wand at the many knives to keep them cutting, slicing and dicing on the chopping board and carefully walked around the table. There, on the floor, was a cage, which held a slightly sooty, ruffled and indignant-looking brown and white owl – the strangest Mrs Weasley had ever seen. It had dark chocolate brown wings and a black back and face, but its front was white and there were white bits picked out around its eyes. Because of the markings it looked permanently confused or frowning, and it had a band of white like a collar too.

A note attached to the cage suddenly started smoking and Mrs Weasley pulled it hurriedly towards her, batting it to suffocate the spark. Then she flipped it open and read, _Mrs Weasley. This is a spectacled owl. She – _Mrs Weasley looked at the owl in surprise; it didn't look very feminine – _is for Ginny, but I wanted you to give her to her. I thought, Ron has one, so Ginny should too. She doesn't know though. See you soon, Hermione._ The note was scribbled hurriedly and Mrs Weasley re-read it a couple of times before sighing to herself. Trust Hermione to ensure she couldn't return the owl, or say no; she really had no choice.

She set the knives, which had slowed and were in danger of slipping off the board and cutting the worktop, back to chopping, and started the spoon stirring in the pan. Then she silenced the owl. Now she was used to its unusual looks, she supposed it was sort of sweet. She smiled fondly at it, and hid it in the pantry.

* * *

As he glided back down to earth, Ron felt his broom shudder and jerk at the sudden loss of height. He rolled his eyes.

"Harry?" he called. "Um. Do you think I could have a go on your broom? Only, mine's playing up again." Ron squeezed the handle hopefully.

"Sure." Came a voice from above him. "One sec, though." Ron shaded his eyes as Harry suddenly pointed the broom straight up and shot towards the sky. Ron's mouth fell open. Harry then righted himself and hovered, so high that The Burrow was the size of his little finger nail and Ron the size of an ant, before pointing the handle straight down and gathering speed towards the ground. Ignoring his protesting reflexes, he kept the broom steady until the very last second and then pulled it up, feeling his face stretch and his glasses dig into his nose as he halted at Ron's shoulder height. He couldn't stop the grin spreading over his face. Ron just stared at him, accepting the broom as Harry forced it into his hand, mind reeling and a grin slowly spreading across his own (considerably paler) face.

* * *

Hermione asked Ginny tentatively if they could travel home by Floo powder. Ginny laughed, remembering how many times Hermione had hit the floor on the way to Diagon Alley, and agreed.

Hermione stepped into the grate in the Leaky Cauldron, which somehow was considerably emptier than it was in the morning, threw down the borrowed powder from the pot next to the communal grate and said confidently, "The Burrow." She hugged herself tightly and squeezed her eyes shut as the sickening motion started and concentrated instead on the pleasant, tingling warmth all around her. She heard Mrs Weasley's squeal as she landed with a slight "Oof" in the kitchen grate, and smiled tentatively at her as she climbed out. Mrs Weasley shook her head and pointed at the pantry, but smiled back.

"Thank you." She said. "That doesn't mean I like it though." Hermione smiled back as angelically as she could, and heard Mrs Weasley's laugh as she turned back to the fireplace. The flames grew green again and a huge number of bags appeared in the grate, which Hermione snatched before they got singed; and Ginny followed close behind.

The girls told Mrs Weasley what they'd bought, but didn't show her; they were going to sort it all out first. They gave her a hand with a stubborn pudding that liked its box a little too much, and then hurried upstairs after learning where the boys were. Ginny itched to join them, but she refused to leave Hermione on her own.

The girls sorted all the new books into separate bags, added Owl Treats to Ron's and Harry's, and put them on the boy's beds. Then while Hermione experimented with her new quill, Ginny searched through the remaining bags. She sorted through the potions ingredients and put them in Hermione's and her own trunks, which lay open on the floor; the boys wouldn't be taking Potions this year due to their lack of 'O' grades.

"What's this?" she asked, holding up a brown paper package.

"Your robes." Hermione responded absently, and reached out to put them in Ginny's trunk before going back to her parchment.

"'Mione, I can't find your stuff for Crookshanks." Ginny said, tipping the last bag upside-down and getting nothing but loose beetle eyes. She grimaced in distaste and collected them into her hands, and then tipped them into her pewter cauldron with the rest of the ingredients.

She looked up and saw Hermione's cheeks gain a rosy hue. "You didn't go to the Menagerie, did you?" Ginny guessed shrewdly. Hermione's blush intensified. "Okay, where did you go?"

"You'll soon find out, Ginny, I promise. I promise."

Ginny looked at her and gave in. "Fine." She said, amused.

_Why don't I fight?_ She wondered. _If that was any of my brothers, or even Harry, I would've pestered them until they told me. _She wavered, uncertain, but in the end just took the bags downstairs to put them in the cupboard. She reached for the door to the pantry, but Mrs Weasley called her name – quite urgently, actually.

"I'll have them here, Ginny, I could do with a few."

Ginny put them down by the table and exited the kitchen again. Mrs Weasley breathed a huge inward sigh of relief and hurriedly flicked her wand at the overflowing sauce pot, muttering curses. Fleur walked in at the same time, breezing through the door with a serene smile.

"Would you like a 'and?" she asked. Mrs Weasley shook her head tersely and asked her to feed the chickens and set up a table outside. She wasn't in the mood for Fleur's _charms_...

* * *

When Ron landed his too-long hair was all over his face and his cheeks were flushed. Harry couldn't help but laugh; he looked like a little kid. He was definitely grinning like one. They flew slowly back to the shed, only a few feet high.

"So." Ron said as they glided along, breaking the silence.

"So?" Harry asked.

"What's wrong? Why are you so quiet?"

_Damn. I didn't think he'd noticed. _"I...um. This is awkward." Harry started.

"Tell me about it. So, get it over with." Ron looked at him and then focused back on the distant shed.

"Well..."

**Lil bit of a cliffhanger. To be honest I just thought it was a good place to break! They're slowly getting longer...let me know what you think ****reviews make me smile lots like some deranged kid so you know, get some written for me!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: me no own. I'm bored of these already :L**

**Chapter 6**

"Harry, please. Spit it out. It's never gonna get any less awkward, mate."

Harry nodded. He knew that as well as Ron did. He sighed.

"Fine. Do you think your sister still likes me? Like she used to?" he sneaked a glance at Ron, who looked stricken, and fought back the urge to laugh.

"I-I dunno mate, you should talk to Hermione about that..."

Harry snorted. "Yeah. Right. That'd be an interesting conversation, wouldn't it? 'Hey Hermione, have you talked to Ginny about me recently?'"

Ron jerked his head. "True. Anyway, why do you want to know?" He asked suddenly, watching Harry closely.

"I...wanted to talk to her..."

"You like her." Ron said accusingly.

"So?" Harry asked, feeling heat rush to his face. Ron grinned.

"I could have some fun with this!"

"You dare. You dare..."

Ron grinned again. "Don't worry, I won't. But seriously mate, talk to Hermione. Not me. 'kay?"

* * *

Ginny ran upstairs and flew into her room, calling "Hermione! Kingsley's here! And Mad-Eye and Lupin!" she pulled the wardrobe door open and rifled through, trying to find something to wear. "We're supposed to be wearing dress-robes, but there is _no way_ I'm wearing mine. Ron got new ones from Fred and George, but mine are...hideous." she turned round, holding a skirt on a hangar. "How's this?"

Hermione looked up from the mirror where she was brushing her hair into a bobble. She shook her head and pulled the bobble out again, re-brushing her newly straight hair (courtesy of Mrs Weasley's wand, as she was still underage) down around her face. It looked gorgeous.

Ginny went through the wardrobe again. "I've got nothing else." She said more quietly. Hermione stood up, pulled Ginny's trunk out from under her bed, and opened it. She extricated (with some difficulty) the brown paper package and handed it over.

"School robes?" Ginny asked incredulously. Hermione shook her head, smiling.

"Open it. I'll come back in a minute." She said and stood, her beautiful purple-ish dress robes flowing around her silently.

Ginny sat down on her bed and silently cursed Hermione. What had she bought her, if not school robes? She slowly pulled the flap open, ripping the spellotape, and ran a finger lengthways down the next join. Out fell – plain black Hogwarts robes. Ginny frowned; she couldn't wear them to the party. She slowly screwed up the paper and dropped it deliberately on the floor, then reached out for the robes. They were lovely and soft, and she picked them up, running her fingers over the material. As she did, she realised how thick they were; there must be two sets. She cursed Hermione even harder and unfolded them.

Inside, instead of another set of school robes, were the gold dress robes from in the window. Her mouth fell open as she held them up. She even forgot to keep up her stream of profanities.

Really, girl's dress robes were just dresses; the lad's dress robes were coloured robes, just like the school ones but fancier. Ginny's gold dress was silkily soft and smooth, and shaped to fit waist and hips and then flare. On one side, it stopped below her knee; on the other, it almost reached the floor. The straps were thin and there was a wide-netted shrug-type jacket sort of built in.

Ginny sat on the bed for a while longer, shock and pure happiness uppermost in her mind but also a small amount of anger with Hermione. Then, suddenly decided by the sight of her old dress robes hanging on the wardrobe door, she stood up and began to change.

Hermione knocked softly on the door and pushed it open to find Ginny stood in the middle of the room, holding her new robes against her.

"Sorry, sorry – back in a minute!" Hermione said hurriedly.

"It's fine." Ginny beckoned. "Shut the door."

Hermione did, feeling a little self conscious, as Ginny pulled the robes over her head. _Since when was Ginny so...curvy?_ she found herself wondering – and it was true, she looked like a well-toned athlete. Hermione found herself blushing and hurriedly went through the motions of checking her reflection in the mirror.

"You look gorgeous, Hermione, chill." Ginny said with a smile, biting her lip.

Hermione turned round and breathed in sharply; Ginny's dress hugged her in all the right places and looked beautiful on. It emphasised the flecks of gold in her brown eyes and her hair looked beautiful loose around her shoulders.

"Thank you." She whispered. Hermione walked slowly towards her and wrapped her in a tight, meaningful hug that seemed timeless and perfect. Ginny breathed in the familiar smell of Hermione's perfume and held tightly to the older girl; Hermione smelt the flowery scent Ginny seemed to carry around with her and fixed it determinedly in her mind. Finally, the two pulled apart without meeting each other's eyes and Hermione pulled a box out from under her bed.

"These are yours. I've Transfigured them, 'cause they didn't match anything in your wardrobe. I can always change them back tomorrow." She proffered the box and Ginny opened it to reveal her own kitten heeled shoes, now an iridescent gold that resembled that of the dress. Ginny smiled.

"Mum's wand?"

Hermione grinned a little sheepishly.

"What am I going to tell mum about this dress? She'll murder you..."

Hermione smiled brightly. "That's all sorted; Fred and George are in on our little secret. I visited their shop earlier" – Hermione smiled at the memory of the madhouse – "and they gave me a little bit of money. I got Ron some new ones with it, like Harry's only blue not green, so Mrs Weasley thinks it was them."

"Ah." Ginny grinned at Hermione's thoroughness and then replaced it with a disapproving look. "I really love it, and thank you so so much, but...I am going to kill you, Hermione Jean Granger."

Hermione's look of pleasure and contentment was immediately replaced with something similar to terror. Ginny laughed. "For now, though, let's just party."

She held out her hand, which Hermione took awkwardly, and Ginny pulled her down the stairs, laughing. They arrived in a kitchen just emptying; Fleur, looking stunning in a simple silver dress, was just leaving. Hermione and Ginny followed quietly to find a row of tables out on the lawn, with long cloths and candles to be lit later. There were banners hung up on nothing reading "Congratulations Harry" (for Quidditch captain and O.W.L results), "Well done Ron", "Outstanding, Hermione" (both for O.W.L results) and "Happy Birthday Harry", and so much food the tables were groaning. Literally, groaning. All the members of the Order (apart from Dumbledore and Snape) who Harry knew were there and Hermione knew them all either by sight, name or both. Fred and George sat a little ways down the table, deep in conversation with Mundungus and wearing their dragon-hide jackets.

Ginny suddenly became aware of her hand still wrapped around Hermione's as the initial shock of the tables, banners and food wore off. She quickly let go and walked towards some empty seats. Hermione followed.

* * *

"Mum. Where's Tonks?" Ginny asked quietly.

Mrs Weasley looked round. "Mm? She's not well, dear. Not in the mood for a party." Mrs Weasley stood and waved her wand, summoning all the empty plates to her and making considerably more room on the tables. Holding her wand like a conductress, she walked away towards the house.

Ginny bit her lip and looked at Hermione. "There's something wrong." She whispered.

* * *

"Harry, dear? Have you finished eating?" Mrs Weasley asked.

Harry, who had in fact finished eating almost an hour ago and still felt uncomfortably full, looked around and smiled at the red-haired woman. "Yes thank you, Mrs Weasley. I didn't expect all this...thank you."

Mrs Weasley twinkled fondly down at him. "Don't mention it, dear. Anyway it's a bit early for your birthday...still. It's the thought that counts. Now, if you don't mind I'm going to say a few things..."

Harry nodded. Mrs Weasley smiled and raised her wand, releasing a shower of gold sparks into the darkening sky and producing a deafening firecracker sound. The table fell silent and looked expectantly towards the head of the table, where Mrs Weasley stood next to Harry's chair.

"I'm glad you could all come tonight." Mrs Weasley called down the length of the table. Harry nodded vigorously, making Ron snort into his pudding. Mrs Weasley shot him a look and continued. "It is, of course, for Harry being made Quidditch captain and as an early birthday celebration. It is also for Harry, Ron and Hermione on getting their O.W.L results back and doing so well. So," Mrs Weasley raised her wand. Out of the open back door came three different cakes, which floated to various points down the table and settled in spaces as close as they could get to the three friends.

Harry's showed a dragon and a small figure on a broomstick, silhouetted on a red and yellow inferno of flames. Ron's was orange and had a cannonball on it; for the Chudley Cannons, Harry guessed. Hermione's was an open book, with the page covered in icing writing and curved as a real book would be. They were also absolutely huge. Hermione blushed, Ron's ears went red and Harry thanked Mrs Weasley quietly, amazed at the skill with which they had been crafted.

Mrs Weasley raised her voice again as the table began to get noisy. "Finally, though," – she raised her wand again – "this is for Ginny. As Hermione rightly pointed out she too has worked hard and coped with all her older brothers all her life, and got all their hand-me-downs; now it's time for her to have something new of her own."

Out of the open door came a covered dome-shape, which Hermione alone knew to be a cage. As it landed it squawked loudly, and the blue-velvet cover fell off. The strange owl frowned out at Ginny, blinking in the orange light from the candles, and opened her beak. "Boo boo boo." A few people looked up in surprise at the strange call.

Hermione leaned over to Ginny and whispered, "She's yours. The lady in the Emporium said they're the most loyal type of owl she's ever known, but you must name her. Whisper her name to her before anyone else hears it, and let her fly, and she'll never fail you."

Ginny's eyes filled up with tears and she smiled as one rolled down her cheek. She lifted her head to meet her mother's gaze, blinked away her tears and looked at Hermione. Her eyes were blazing.

She leaned down and whispered something between the bars of the cage, unaware of the talk that had sprung up again all over the table. Then she flicked the catch and watched her funny owl spread her wings in the dark night sky, calling with pleasure and attracting some fond glances from the occupants of the table. Ginny knew what they felt; already the owl tugged at her heartstrings.

"That is going to do my head in." Ron whispered to Harry. Harry grinned back.

The owl wheeled overhead for another couple of seconds, and then soared down onto Ginny's shoulder. Her look of surprise was quickly replaced with one of tender pleasure and she reached out to the nearest plate to feed the owl a cocktail sausage. The owl hooted sleepily and dipped her beak in Ginny's pumpkin juice.

**Definitely longer. What do you think? I'll try to pick up the pace a bit now, it's a bit of a slow start I know. Review pleeeeaaase!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: only the storyline's mine :'(**

**Chapter 7**

Ginny stretched luxuriously, then quickly retracted as she felt her foot hit skin and remembered Hermione. She rolled over to look at the girl lying next to her. Her hair was still more or less straight and she looked very peaceful in sleep.

_My sister_, Ginny tried. It didn't sound right, although Ginny knew she might as well be. She sighed, and rolled the other way to look at her owl. Her head was tucked under her wing, but as if she felt her owner's gaze she ruffled her feathers and blinked her eyes open, fixing Ginny in one of them. She clicked her beak expectantly and Ginny smiled, throwing back the duvet and pulling herself up. She emptied a packet of seeds into the dish and then sat and watched her eat them.

* * *

Hermione rolled over to find the other half of the bed empty. She looked around in surprise, but saw Ginny sat on the floor watching her owl, who was pecking at her food bowl.

"I think it's our turn for that." She said. Ginny jumped turned around, smiling and nodding.

"Sleep well?" She asked.

"Never better." Hermione answered. "You?"

"Fine. Mum wants to try and find another bed to put in here but she knows as well as I do we don't have one. This one's big enough if you're happy to carry on sharing, so I'll just tell her not to bother..."

Hermione nodded and swung her legs out of bed, reaching for her dressing gown. "What did you call her?" she asked, gesturing towards the owl.

"Um." Ginny blushed. "Boomerang. But she'll always get Boo. I just thought owls always come back like boomerangs. And she always says 'boo', so she knows her name."

Hermione grinned suddenly and brilliantly, and Ginny smiled back uncertainly. She opened the cage door and then the bedroom door, letting Boo follow the girls to the kitchen for breakfast.

* * *

Ron caught Harry's eye as the two girls came into the kitchen, still in pyjamas. He nodded towards Hermione. It was time to put the plan into action.

"Hey Ginny, fancy Quidditch later?" Ron asked.

"Sure. You playing, Harry? Need I ask?" Ginny grinned and Harry felt his heart miss a thump.

"Um. No actually, I'm not – I was going to, er, write a letter."

"Oh. Ok." Ginny said, sharing a confused and surprised look with the older witch. "Hermione, you fancy giving it a go?"

Ron and Harry exchanged an alarmed glance which went unnoticed by the girls.

"No!" Hermione said defiantly.

"Oh go on. I'll teach you. You can't be a witch if you can't play Quidditch – well actually you've got to be able to fly as well."

"I can fly!" Hermione said, indignant.

"Correction: fly well." Ginny smirked.

"You know what? I will come. Just to prove you wrong." Hermione snapped, and busied herself with the toast.

* * *

Harry shut the door to Ron's room and leant against it, breathing heavily. Then he slammed both fists into it and swept the books, quill, parchment and magazines off the windowsill. He stood in the middle of the room, surveying the mess with his fists clenched, trembling slightly.

There was a knock at the door and Hermione's voice issued through the wood.

"Harry? Are you there? I wanted to talk to you."

Harry opened the door. Hermione, now dressed, stood on the landing, her hair tied back and a slightly disapproving look on her face.

"You really shouldn't hit things, you know. Especially," she looked at the mess on the floor, "If they're not yours."

Harry growled. Hermione stepped into the room and shut the door, then said, "So. What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"Since when do you miss the chance to play Quidditch to _write a letter_? In fact, since when do you even write letters?"

Ouch. Harry felt a physical pain stab him in the chest as he thought of the only person he ever wrote to; Sirius. Who he could now never write to again; or he could, but Sirius would never write back.

Hermione saw his expression and her own softened slightly. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

Harry nodded, trying to clear the lump in his throat.

"So, I thought I'd come find out what was wrong. And if you wanted to talk to me, I would guess that's why you were going to miss Quidditch – because I usually would – and I'm assuming you were going to tell me then what this is all about." Hermione finished.

Harry smirked. "'Smart girl, that Hermione.'" He whispered.

Hermione looked startled. "What?" she asked.

"Something someone said to me once."

Hermione didn't question him further. "Anyway," She said bossily. "What's going on?"

Harry didn't answer straight away. Then he said quietly, "Have you ever liked anyone so much it physically hurts and you can barely bear to meet their eyes, and yet you just get the feeling they're not interested?"

Hermione blinked. The closest the two had ever previously got to a heart-to-heart chat about romance was after Harry kissed Cho Chang before Christmas last year, and that was a brief and brisk question-and-answer session. Her surprise was not only at the sudden display of emotion, though; it was also at the fact that the things Harry was saying exactly matched her own feelings. She blinked again and whispered truthfully, "Yes. I have."

Harry looked at her. "It's not Ron, is it?" he said suddenly.

"I- no- I- Harry, that's beside the point!" Hermione blustered. "Is this about Ginny?" She guessed shrewdly.

"I wanted to ask you if she'd said anything to you." Harry admitted, looking away.

"No, she hasn't." Hermione lied. "But, if you want, I'll speak to her. Although it will put me in a difficult position if she's not...well..."

Panic gripped Harry. He refused to even consider the possibility that Ginny wouldn't be interested.

"Speak to her, please." Harry said, making up his mind. The agony of not knowing had to be worse either way than if he had a solid answer.

Hermione nodded and pulled open the door.

"Hermione?" Harry called her back. She looked around. "I won't tell Ron." He smirked. "And thank you."

Hermione blushed, nodded, and walked away, leaving Harry stood in the middle of the room surrounded by oddments of parchment and general mess which had yet to be sorted through and packed for school. He looked around helplessly; had he made the right choice?

**This seemed a suitable place to stop. Reviews please! I'll try to update quickly now :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: all belongs to J. K. Rowling. *sniff* not that I'm jealous of her awesome writing skills or anything...**

**Chapter 8**

Hermione pulled herself over the broom with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, feeling the wood beneath her hands.

"Now, take your feet off the floor." Ginny instructed. "Don't push off or anything, just...lift them up."

Hermione whimpered. "I'm going to kill you, Ginny Weasley..." she managed.

Ginny laughed and for a moment Hermione was oblivious to where she was as the sound fell through her mind like starlight. It was a beautiful sound, made all the lovelier by her lack of sight.

"Now...open your eyes. Slowly."

Hermione did, seeing a river way below her twining around a forest and through fields. She shrieked as she saw The Burrow below her and Ginny, hovering beside her with Boo close by.

"See? It's not so bad up here." Ginny said with a grin as Harry and Ron streaked towards them.

Hermione whimpered again, but slowly turned her broom as Ginny did to face the oncoming boys.

_She's a bit wobbly, but she's not doing half bad..._ Ginny thought to herself.

Harry threw a quaffle, which Ginny caught, and the game was on. Boo flew with them, weaving between the players. It was more or less a huge game of catch, and Hermione was soon playing just as enthusiastically as any of them; she wasn't a good flier, or a neat one, but she could catch relatively well and seemed to forget she was in the air after a while.

When they stopped playing Hermione was flushed and her hair extremely messy, but she was grinning widely.

"See?" Ginny scolded her. "See how much more fun we could've had if you'd just given it a chance?"

Hermione hung her head.

* * *

"Didn't you want to write a letter, Harry?" Ginny asked, pulling a face at the door as it closed on Fleur and taking a sandwich from the piled plate.

"Already done it." Harry replied, taking one too.

Hermione caught Ginny's eye and quickly looked away. She reached for a sandwich, then took two more and headed for the door.

"Where you off to, 'Mione?"

"I'm gonna do a bit of reading." Hermione called back, smiling to the room at large. "I need to have a look through the textbooks before we go back." Ginny too picked up a couple sandwiches, then stood and shook her hair back.

"I'm coming with you." She said. Hermione waited as she danced out of the living room, and caught a glimpse of Harry's face through the closing door; he was trying to catch her eye. Hermione nodded.

Ginny stopped dancing and started up the stairs. "You did want me to come with you, didn't you?" Ginny asked. "That's why you didn't look at me?"

Hermione laughed. "You can read me like a book. Yes."

Ginny smiled, and then looked across at her friend curiously. "So, what's this all about?" she asked as they started up the final flight of stairs.

Hermione didn't answer until the bedroom door had closed behind them. "Harry wanted me to speak to you."

Ginny's face fell. "I already did..." she whispered. Hermione nodded and bit her lip.

"I know. I know."

There was a long silence, while Ginny struggled to control her tears. She only let one escape, but Hermione was surprised; last night at the party and now this morning, the only two times she had ever seen Ginny cry – twice in as many days. She hovered near her bed and waited until Ginny seemed at least a little in control.

"Gin. What changed? Why don't you like him now? You broke up with Michael, last year. You were with Dean Thomas. You said you'd 'given up on Harry months ago', and I know you said it was just a crush, but...something must have happened to make you realise?"

* * *

"Something must have happened to make you realise?"

Hermione was looking at her with such tenderness Ginny almost couldn't bear it. She looked away and stared out of the window, watching how the sun hit the hill and made the grass look yellow. She didn't even try to stop the tears flowing now and they fell thick and fast.

Finally, in a low voice, she said, "I wasn't with Dean Thomas. I knew he'd say yes if I asked him, but I haven't done yet." She twisted her hands together. "I just need someone because otherwise, all the lads give me those looks and I don't like it..."

Hermione looked at her, still surprised. "Well, you're an attractive young woman; I'm not surprised they look at you like that." She said matter-of-factly. "But, oh Ginny, why didn't you tell me? We all thought you two were already together!"

Ginny hung her head, but she wasn't really listening. She was thinking about what Hermione had said. _'Something must have happened to make you realise...what's changed?'_ nothing, she thought, not really...

"Ginny?"

"Huh?" she said, re-entering real life.

"I said, why didn't you ask Dean last year?"

Ginny shrugged evasively. Hermione watched her closely, and then said softly, "You shouldn't lead him on, you know. If you don't really like him, if he's just the best person you can think of, don't ask him at all..."

Ginny looked away again, cheeks burning with shame. Hermione walked towards her and pulled her into a warm hug.

"Is there someone else?" she whispered. Ginny thought for a moment, examining all her emotions – new and old – and then slowly nodded, letting more tears leak onto Hermione's shoulders. "Who is it?" Hermione asked sadly, standing back. Ginny shook her head, eyes frightened. "Okay, I won't ask. But what do I tell Harry?"

Ginny's shoulders slumped as she considered the possibilities.

"He's like my brother." She whispered.

* * *

"He's like my brother." Ginny whispered. Hermione's heart sank, but as she looked at Ginny, stood in the middle of her bedroom looking dejected and utterly defeated, she felt pity stir inside her.

"I'd better go back down." She whispered. "Try to sleep; I'll tell them you don't feel well." She picked up a textbook and walked to the door. There she halted and looked back. "Sweet dreams." She whispered, and closed the door.

Ginny threw herself down on her bed and sobbed.

**Lil bit short but hey :/ review please! Thanks to those that have stuck with me ****very grateful to you!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: only my storyline is mine because unfortunately, my name isn't J. K. Rowling.**

**Chapter 9**

Ginny's tears took a long time to stop flowing but when they did, she sat up. She leant on the wall, hugging her knees, and cross-examined her conflicting emotions.

She didn't love Harry, she knew it - not in the way he wanted her to anyway. And Hermione was right, she didn't love Dean, and it wasn't fair to string him along. Who was it? She hadn't been lying when she told the brunette witch there was someone else. She knew there was and her heart was shouting the answer at her. Her head, though, was pulling her the away. How could it be?

She knew her heart had to win this fight, but her head didn't like it one little bit.

* * *

"Harry?" Hermione knocked on the door. No-one answered, so she cautiously opened it. The room was empty and very messy; two school trunks stood open on the floor. Hermione smiled to herself; clearly Mrs Weasley's instructions to pack had been only partly followed. She shut the door behind her and walked back down the stairs, considering her options.

Mind made up, she pulled out the wand she had 'borrowed' from Mrs Weasley and silently cast the charm, producing a shining silver otter. She smiled as it gambolled around, before heading out of the open window into the blistering heat and sunshine, where it was almost invisible. Then she quietly replaced the wand in the kitchen while Mrs Weasley was dusting the lounge and went back into Ron's room to wait.

* * *

Harry grinned over at Ron, hovering on the other side of a thicket to The Burrow to prevent Mrs Weasley spotting them.

Ron smiled back uncertainly. "Um. Are we going to have time to pack?"

"This was your idea, Ron. Anyway, we've got almost a week left." Harry reminded him.

Ron froze as he spied the silver otter on the backdrop of trees, thinking Mrs Weasley had sent it to find them. Then he realised Mrs Weasley's Patronus was not an otter. He relaxed as Harry followed his gaze. The otter continued towards them, running playfully and snapping at passing bugs until it stopped next to Harry. It opened its mouth and spoke with Hermione's voice.

"_Come home. Mrs Weasley's on the warpath, she's lost her wand and she's suspicious of you two. And I could do with a chat anyway."_

The otter dissolved in the middle of a sort of backwards somersault, leaving behind a silvery image on the boy's eyes. They looked at each other and, remembering Hermione's unfortunate skill with charmed birds, aimed their brooms towards home, careful to fly well above The Burrow to avoid prying eyes.

* * *

Hermione jumped as a dark shape blocked the sunlight from the wide open hall window and Harry landed on the sill. He toppled inside as Ron came up behind him.

"Nice Patronus. Sounded pretty cool," Harry said, standing up as Ron fell with an 'oof' onto the floor. Hermione smiled at the compliment and gestured down the stairs. Harry nodded.

"Ron?" Hermione said as he pulled himself off the floor. "I need to talk to Harry. Your side of the room is the messiest, though, so you can be starting to tidy up. We won't be long..."

They left Ron torn between looking outraged that Hermione had been in his room, and confused at this suddenly motherly instruction, and walked down the stairs.

Hermione locked them both into Fred and George's room, which was filled with cardboard boxes, and sat on one of the beds. Harry hovered in the doorway as she looked into an open box and pulled out a small telescope, avoiding his gaze.

"Well?" he said abruptly. "Did you speak to her?"

Hermione sighed, studying the telescope in her hands. "Yes, Harry, I spoke to her. It made her cry as well, and I'm not proud of it."

Harry blinked. Ginny never cried. "Is she still with Dean?" he asked scathingly, thinking with a small amount of satisfaction of the Quidditch trials; Dean wouldn't make the team this year...

"She never was, Harry. She never asked him."

Harry smiled. "Excellent." He looked at Hermione, who looked as if she thought it was far from excellent. "What?" he asked her, looking at her downcast expression.

There was a long silence, which Hermione broke gently but without playing with her words. "She said you're like a brother to her, Harry. Nothing else."

Harry couldn't move. He felt frozen, numb, and his blood was roaring in his ears. He couldn't hear, he couldn't think, he couldn't feel...

There was a loud bang and a squeak as Hermione vanished behind a large puff of black smoke. Harry turned on his heel and walked out.

* * *

Hermione heard the bang and instinctively closed her eyes as smoke erupted around her. Pain blossomed in her right eye and as she squinted she saw Harry leave. As the pain subsided slightly and the smoke cleared she saw the door hanging open, and she glanced around her. Finally she found the source of the blast; on the end of a powerful-looking spring, poking out of the eyepiece of the telescope, was a tiny red fist. Hermione almost laughed as she stood up, planning to ask Mrs Weasley to remove the bruise. She winced; it hurt.

* * *

Ginny sat bolt-upright as she heard the explosion from somewhere above her. Boo stiffened in her cage and turned her large eyes upwards, her confused expression perfect for the situation. Then Ginny heard footsteps on the stairs and jumped up, opening her door, to follow them down.

She walked into the kitchen to find a hysterical Hermione sat at the kitchen table with a worried Mrs Weasley fussing over her.

"It just won't shift," she heard her mother say anxiously.

"What happened?" Ginny asked, sitting down next to her friend. Hermione moved her hands to reveal a purpling bruise around her eye and produced a small telescope from under the table.

"I squeezed it and it- it punched me!" she said. Ginny examined the telescope and almost laughed as she saw the fist protruding. Trust Fred and George.

* * *

Harry strode up to Ron's room, not even wondering about the smoke in the bedroom. He pushed the door open and flopped onto his bed, picked up a couple of items and threw them venomously into his trunk, ignoring the ominous _thunks_ that resulted. Ron looked over to him.

"What did you blow up? It sounded bad from here." He tried with a brave attempt at humour. Harry shot him a nasty look.

"It was Hermione, but I don't know what happened. I didn't hang around to find out." He said shortly.

"Um. I guess you didn't hear what you wanted to hear then?"

Harry shook his head. Tactfully (for him anyway), Ron didn't question him further. They finished packing in silence, with Harry thinking to himself. Perhaps not knowing had been better...

* * *

"Ginny? We're going to Diagon Alley again tomorrow, all of us this time, so Mrs Weasley wants us to have an early night." Hermione said as she walked into the red-haired witch's room. "Hey, what's up?" She added hurriedly as she noticed Ginny trying to dash away her tears; the attempt was futile because even as she wiped some away, more appeared.

Hermione pulled her into a hug that Ginny didn't return and Hermione soon let go, warring with herself. She sat next to the younger girl, wondering if she had done something wrong. She wracked her brains but came up with blanks.

"What's happened, Ginny? Is this about earlier? I'm sorry." Hermione whispered. Ginny shook her head.

"Not your fault. It's me." She mumbled.

"...are you thinking about this other person?" Hermione asked. Ginny nodded. "Who is it, Ginny?" she made no move to reply and the older witch sighed, standing up and reaching for her pyjamas. "While I'm gone, just have a think about what you said to me on the Knight Bus on the way to Diagon Alley."

She walked out of the door, leaving Ginny to ponder what she had said in silence. Finally the conversation came back to her.

"_We'll be a while, so get comfy." Ginny said as Hermione peeled herself off the window. "So, you were saying."_

"_What was I saying?" Hermione grinned._

"_That you would be okay?"_

"_Yeah. I will be, honestly...I promise."_

"_Mm. Well, you know where I am if you want to talk. And 'Mione, I'd appreciate it if you did – I worry about you otherwise!"_

"_Oh Ginny. Please don't make me feel guilty. You know you're the first person I'd come to. Give me a few days and maybe I will, okay?"_

Ginny thought for a while longer, but she knew what she had to do.

* * *

Hermione thought while she changed. She hoped Ginny remembered their conversation, just as she hoped it meant as much to the redhead as it did to her. She tried to piece together Ginny's odd behaviour, but she couldn't think of anything that would cause the short-tempered, kind, strong, athletic young witch such heartache; she supposed it was just the thought of hurting Harry, someone she said herself was like a brother to her. Hermione sighed and looked at her reflection in the mirror, habitually moving stray pieces of hair back to their proper positions, while she thought about what Harry had said his love for Ginny felt like, and the answering feelings Hermione had felt in her own heart.

She balled up her clothes and marched determinedly back to Ginny's room. She softened her paces as she entered and put her clothes away without looking at the redhead, then turned and sat cross-legged on the bed facing her.

"I remember." Ginny whispered. Her tears had stopped and her eyes had the same hard, blazing look in them that Hermione had noticed when she received Boo at the party. Hermione nodded.

"I'm glad. Are you going to tell me then? Or would you rather not?"

"Who it really is that I love?" Ginny asked. Hermione looked at her in surprise when she used _love,_ not _like_ – to hear her use such a meaningful term so matter-of-factly was a little disconcerting. "I'll tell you if you want me to. But I don't think you want to know."

Hermione laughed. "Of course I do, Ginny. It's upsetting you, and I can only help if you tell me."

Ginny nodded. "Can I ask a favour then?" Hermione nodded, looking fondly at the girl opposite her. "Wait until tomorrow night." Ginny said quietly, and lay down to sleep.

Hermione, taken aback, stared at her for a second and then lay down herself. She faced Ginny and said, "So it is the person you..._love_" – she forced herself to say it – "that's upsetting you, not the fact that you're hurting Harry?" she whispered. Ginny nodded. Hermione's voice became stronger as she said "then you know I will be fully supportive, Ginny, no matter who it is – even if he's in Slytherin." Ginny buried her head in her arms and curled into a ball and Hermione, taking the hint, reached out and turned the lamp out. The room went dark around the two girls and each was left to their difficult thoughts and worries.

**Reviews please! This one's pretty long! And I just wanted to say thank you to LingeringLuminosity for her kind words - normally I'd PM, but I think she has them turned off. So, thank you very much!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: me no own characters or places or spells etc.**

**'Fraid this is just a short one, but it should give you some clues :) start unravelling the plot!**

**Chapter 10**

Harry woke to the dreary half-light of an early morning, with the birds singing so loudly he was surprised they hadn't woken him. Or had they?

He stretched and relaxed, before remembering the day before. He looked over at Ron, who was snoring lightly, and ground his teeth in frustration. Thinking of Ginny, he vowed:

_Whoever he was, he would meet the other guy's face with his own fist, no matter how many detentions it landed him in_.

* * *

Hermione ran upstairs, fully dressed, with an ultimatum. She hammered on the boys' door and pushed it open to find them both still in bed, Ron asleep and Harry awake but groggy. She sat on the foot of Harry's bed. "How are you?" She asked gently.

"Fantastic, never better." He replied sarcastically. He ground his right fist into the other hand and muttered, "when I get my hands on him..."

"Harry, please. Do you want Ginny to hate you? Can't you just accept her decision and support her, be happy for her?" Hermione asked desperately. "Don't make her unhappy, Harry..."

"You don't – I _love_ – you sit there – you don't know what this _feels_ like!" Harry spat. Ron groaned and rolled over, but quickly continued his snoring pattern.

"I do, Harry, I do – I told you! I do! Please...think about it before you do anything rash!"

Harry looked at her curiously, but didn't push it as she walked over to Ron and poked him, hard, in the ribs. He grunted and his eyes snapped open, and when he saw who it was he pulled the duvet up around him in a panic.

"Ah! What are you doing in here?" he burst out.

"Delivering an important message." Hermione answered. "Mrs Weasley says you're to get up, dressed and breakfasted before eight-fifteen or you're not coming to Diagon Alley."

Ron looked at the clock and groaned. "Half an hour? What's the point? We've got all our stuff."

"Yes, because we went to get it. This is a trip to visit Fred and George mainly, and unless I'm mistaken you haven't seen their shop yet. No-one has, because it only opened two days ago." Hermione didn't mention that she saw Fred and George setting up when she went with Ginny.

Ron's eyes widened and he nodded. "Fine. On my way. Now, will you please get out so I can change?" he asked. Hermione smirked.

"I'm going."

* * *

Standing in a queue in front of the fireplace, Ron yawning widely, Harry felt very out of place among the flame-haired Weasleys. Mr Weasley proffered him the flowerpot and Harry grimaced and tucked his glasses into his robes. He took a fistful of the glittering powder and stepped into the grate, trying to ignore the ash tickling his throat, as he shouted "Diagon Alley!"

His last glimpse of The Burrow was Ron, staring stupidly into the fire with his mouth hanging open. He really wasn't awake yet.

* * *

Hermione watched Harry whizz out of sight and felt anger smouldering inside her. Why couldn't he let Ginny go? He wasn't the only heartbroken one in the world. She ground her teeth in frustration.

As the kitchen slowly emptied, Ginny reached for her hand. "Don't look so worried. I'll tell you later, I promise." She let go and smiled reassuringly, before dipping her hand into the pot of Floo powder. As she too vanished, Mr Weasley shook the flowerpot.

"We're running low, Molly dear. We'll have to get some more today."

"If we can, Arthur." Mrs Weasley replied. "It's expensive stuff."

Hermione hurriedly dipped her hand in the pot. Another thing to worry about; she'd almost forgotten. She cursed silently as she called, "Diagon Alley!" and felt the familiar sensation take over.

* * *

Ginny wrapped her hand around Hermione's, feeling how cold it was and hoping it wasn't the last time she'd be able to warm the brunette's fingers. "Don't look so worried. I'll tell you later, I promise." She whispered. She let go Hermione's hand, feeling suddenly self-conscious, and fixed the memory of the sensation in her mind as Hermione too vanished into the fire.

Ginny sighed as she reached for the Floo powder and stepped into the grate.

**Just a filler really, get some insight into the minds of the characters. Let me know how you think it's going. Thanks :D**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: me no own :'(**

**OK being the special kid that I am I wrote this and I was quite pleased with it, I saved it and everything, but then overwrote it and lost it all. I had to start from scratch so I wasn't really in the mood...sorry if it's not great but I was seriously peed off! You know you would be...**

**Chapter 11**

Ginny saw the Leaky Cauldron spinning into view and jumped nimbly over the fireguard, eager to be out in the sun. She spotted Ron's tall, skinny frame in the doorway and thought fondly of how ungainly and gangly he was. And annoying, she added mentally. She smiled to herself and nodded to her brother, making for the doorway where the magical street opened beyond the wall.

She glanced behind in time to see a disorientated Hermione arrive in the newly green flames of the big old-fashioned fireplace. She hurried quickly out of the door; she needed some time away from the brunette witch, to clear her head and really think about their impeding 'chat'.

* * *

Hermione steadied herself and opened her eyes in time to see a familiar flame-haired figure – no, two – disappear out of the door. Deciding they would have waited if they wanted her company, she climbed gingerly over the fireguard and looked around for someone else to wander with. Her gaze rested on Harry, then Mrs Weasley, and she hurried over to the two of them. Harry was unfolding his glasses and propping them on his nose.

"...don't know _where_ the other two have got to, Arthur must be on his way by now, I _really_ think we should stay together, it's _much_ too quiet, where has Arthur got to..." Mrs Weasley's worried chuntering reached Hermione and she smiled to herself, thinking of the kindly woman's mother hen sort of personality.

"Ron and Ginny have gone into Diagon Alley already, Mrs. Weasley." She called. "And Mr Weasley's just behind me..."

As she spoke the flames turned emerald and a tall, balding figure could be seen within them. Mrs Weasley smiled, and then began her muttering again. "...should've let me know, we ought to stick together in these times, I don't like it so quiet...they'll have gone straight to Fred and George's, I told them to wait until this afternoon, they'd better not go to Knockturn Alley, I shall have their heads if they step out of this street..."

Harry caught Hermione's eye and they both turned away, trying not to laugh. Mr Weasley joined them and the four of them headed for the brick wall where the most famous wizarding street lay, concealed from the entire Muggle community. Hermione thought about the size of it. Between that and Number 12, Grimmauld Place, all the Laws of Physics and relative size and all the rest of it were pretty well blown out of the window...she allowed herself a small smile at the thought. Physics was easy enough but it never had been a favourite of hers.

* * *

Ron and Ginny hurried up the strangely quiet street, hoping to escape the dull greys and sense of abandonment in the usually bustling and cheerful alley. They arrived outside Quality Quidditch Supplies and eagerly entered; it was a favourite haunt. They didn't stay long though; all the brooms were as good as ever, but the shop was cold, badly lit and under-stocked. The greys from outside seemed to creep in through the windows and Ginny had the strange sense that the world was slowly being pulled back in time; gradually, the black and white that had been eradicated when colour photography arrived was claiming the world back as its own.

As they exited the shop someone called Ron's name and ten Ginny's and, smiling at the unmistakeable voice, they turned. "Hey, Hagrid." Ron called and the two ran to him. He was stood looking sadly through a crack in the boarded windows of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

Ron and Ginny stood next to him. "What happened?" Ron asked quietly.

Hagrid shrugged his massive shoulders. "All's I know is yeh shouldn' be wandering around by yeh'selves. You had a good summer?" he added. The siblings nodded and Ginny told him they were going to Gringotts, to find their parents. Ron looked at her in surprise and she muttered,

"It'll stop mum worrying."

Ron jerked his head in agreement.

"Righ', I'm comin' with yeh." Hagrid said firmly, and almost frog-marched them away from the ice cream parlour. From either side of Hagrid Ginny and Ron grinned, jogging to keep up.

LINE BREAK

Harry and Hermione hurried along in Mrs Weasley's wake, sharing amused looks. Mrs Weasley seemed harried and worried, and Mr Weasley's mutterings didn't seem to be helping her. He kept casting dark looks at the stall set up on the edge of the alley, which was covered in medals and had a banner proclaiming protection from all the foul beasts known to wizard-kind. Mr Weasley's little rants always began with "If I were on duty..." and he'd already completed three. They were still about fifty metres from the stall.

It's going to be a long day." Hermione murmured.

On the steps to Gringotts they met Ron and Ginny, who looked a little breathless. Hagrid was with them, which perhaps explained it; his stride was long even compared to Dumbledore's, which was saying something. Thinking of Dumbledore, Hermione suddenly remembered something she'd been wondering about...she made a mental note to speak to Ginny later.

"I best be off. See yeh again, yeh two...Harry, Hermione..." Hagrid strode away in the direction of a drink. Harry smiled fondly.

The warning from the doors above Gringotts wasn't needed and Harry didn't look up at it as they passed under the three entrances; he already knew it. He remembered some snippets from his first visit as he said the little rhyme through to himself.

_Enter stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed  
For those who seek, but do not earn  
Must pay dearly in their turn  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there_

"_Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it...Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe – 'cept maybe Hogwarts..."_

"_If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there."  
"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?"  
"About once every ten years..."_

"_Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?"  
"Spells – enchantments. They say there's dragons guardin' the high-security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way – Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."_

Hermione poked Harry in the ribs and he flinched.

"The Weasleys are going to their vault. Do you need any money?" she asked bossily. Harry smiled; this was the Hermione he knew and loved. He nodded. "Right, I'm coming with you. I'm not waiting here on my own and I don't need any." She went on. They climbed up onto a cart and were off; Harry craned his neck, watching all the twists and turns and the way the ground fell away and rushed back up to meet them. Catching a glimpse of Hermione he was amused to see she, like Hagrid, hated the carts; she was sitting very still with her eyes screwed up. Harry remembered more from his first visit to the wizard bank.

"_Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it, an' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick..."_

"_...come on, back in this infernal cart..."_

"_...and can we go more slowly?"  
"One speed only."_

Harry almost laughed out loud, but then the cart was slowing down. They were there.

* * *

Hermione, when she braved opening her eyes and found the world had stopped spinning, was surprised to see how little was in Harry's vault. There was a lot there, more than enough to keep Harry going for the rest of his life even if he never earned a knut, but compared to what Hermione herself had, there was less than a third...this made her feel a little sick again and worse than she had before. She turned away and, once Harry had finished, she let him lead her back to her seat, eyes again squeezed tightly shut.

* * *

The Weasleys stood open-mouthed and staring at the mounds of gold. Ginny alone knew that there was more there than Harry had in his vault, and probably about half of what was in Hermione's. She shook her head, still staring.

The goblin tapped his long feet impatiently. Finally, he said, "An anonymous and irreversible transaction was made six days ago whereby the content of said individual's vault was split and half was transferred into your own."

Mrs Weasley made an indefinite noise in her throat. The goblin sighed and drummed fingers on the wall. Mr Weasley tugged the bag from the immobile and unresisting Mrs Weasley and filled it, seeming to caress the coins. "I need to know who did this." He whispered as he exited the vault. Mrs Weasley nodded.

The goblin sighed again and reached into his pocket. "As I said, the transaction was anonymous. However this was left for you."

He handed over a parchment envelope, which Mrs Weasley tucked into her robes with a small smile.

* * *

Harry and Hermione caught up with the Weasleys on the stairs. "I wonder where we can buy Floo powder?" Mrs Weasley asked. Nobody answered her; everyone was looking at Hermione and laughing quietly. She was marching determinedly ahead of the group and looked little short of murderous.

* * *

"Ouch, Hermione, what happened to your eye?" Fred called. George popped up behind him and grimaced.

"Your punching telescope!" Hermione hissed, turning towards them. Fred and George exchanged an alarmed glance.

"I'd forgotten about those..." one said, while the other laughed. "Won't it come off? Mum's great with cuts and scrapes and stuff."

Hermione snarled, and the twins each took a step back. "No, it will not come off – and you know it won't because you made it like that!" she exploded. The younger Weasleys and Harry moved quickly to a different part of the shop while Fred and George shepherded Hermione through to their storeroom and threw her some orange paste in a tub.

"Didn't think the charm had actually worked..." one mumbled.

"Anyway, that'll get it off dead quick." The other one added, and they vanished. Hermione rolled her eyes.

**Ok one more after this I think, then I'll send them back to Hogwarts. Review please! This took a lot of effort as I had to write it twice... :P **

**And I remembered most of the Gringotts rhyme...is that really sad? I was quite proud :')**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: me no own :'(**

**Chapter 12**

Back at The Burrow, the atmosphere was...not unpleasant, but tense and strange. Ginny, aware that Hermione wasn't around and grateful to the girl for giving her some space, shut herself in her room. She needed time to think.

* * *

Mrs Weasley sat on a chair in the kitchen and carefully slit open the envelope. She pulled out quite a small piece of parchment and unfolded it, revealing a short letter; clearly it wasn't hand-written because each letter was exactly the same style as each other same letter. She sighed. Someone had clearly gone to great lengths to stay anonymous and make sure the money wasn't returned, but it was such a lot! Enough to last them more than a lifetime...

The letter read:

Mrs Molly and Mr Arthur Weasley  
In return for this money (although I know you didn't ask for it) I ask only one thing: use some of it to buy your two youngest decent broomsticks of their own. They are promising players on the Quidditch pitch and to be in with a chance on the team they need better brooms than their own.  
Anon.

Mrs Weasley sighed again, but her mind was made up. She dipped her hand in the now-full flowerpot and flung it in the grate, ignoring the voice telling her she shouldn't go alone. With a final sigh she stepped into the flames.

* * *

Hermione, barricaded again in Fred and George's room but this time with Harry and Ron, sat on the windowsill. This time she was careful not to touch anything that wasn't part of the beds or walls.

She rolled her eyes at the conversation.

"Come on, there's something odd..." Harry was saying.

"We all agreed that, mate, but...a Death Eater? Malfoy? He's _sixteen_!"

Hermione sighed. All these points had already been made; all they were doing was arguing them round and round.

"Look, Harry, we've agreed there's something fishy...but really." She cut in.

"Yes, really, you saw his face when his mum tried to touch his arm, he jumped a mile! And it was his _left _arm, and he was up to something in Borgin and Burkes...he said, 'Don't forget to keep _that _one safe'...he's up to something, Hermione, and I think he's been branded with the dark mark."

Hermione sighed again and got to her feet, picking her way through the boxes to the door. She opened it and slipped through, letting memories wash through her as she remembered some of the events of the day:

"_Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers." The sneer changing to an expression of panic as his mother tried to grip his forearm to drag him away, and the way he lashed out...his mother's look of rage becoming all at once sad and understanding..._

_Through the window of the back section of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, they could see Malfoy walking briskly down the street, looking around furtively as if he was hiding from someone..._

_Harry pulling the invisibility cloak over the three of them like old times and hurrying them out of the door..._

_Listening through the Extendable Ears to Malfoy threatening and bargaining with Borgin, irritated that they couldn't see what he was pointing to..._

_Her flight from under the invisibility cloak into the most horrible shop she's even entered, trying to convince Borgin to tell her what he knew, and her argument with Ron on the way back about how useless she was..._

_Mrs Weasley's worried face peering through the window of the colourful shop and Harry's mumbled assurances that they had been in the back all the time and she couldn't have looked properly, among his arguments to herself and Ron about his death eater theory..._

There really was no arguing with him, she thought to herself. There was definitely something odd, but...a death eater? Malfoy? No, she didn't think so...

She pulled herself back to the present as she entered the kitchen. "Mrs Weasley, could I have that orange stuff now please?" She asked.

"Of course, dear – here. Hermione, I..." Mrs Weasley stopped and looked at the young witch.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked quickly, her heart sinking.

"Nothing, dear, it doesn't matter."

Hermione found another memory. _Ron and Harry were laughing at the big poster in the window, and Ginny too was grinning, but Hermione was watching Mrs Weasley as she read it.  
_Are you worrying about You-Know-Who?_ It said. _You SHOULD be worrying about You-No-Poo – the constipation sensation that's gripping the nation!  
_Hermione looked back at the pale Mrs Weasley just in time to see her mouth the words 'You-No-Poo" again.  
"They'll be murdered in their beds!" she murmured.  
"No they won't! This is brilliant!" Ron replied and, still chortling, the kids all went in. Hermione reached out and patted Mrs Weasley's shoulder awkwardly, before also going into the shop._

Hermione looked up at the kindly face above her and smiled. "Are you still worrying about the poster?" She asked quietly.

Mrs Weasley's smile slipped away and she sighed. "A little, dear, a little. When they live there...and after what happened to Fortescue and Ollivander..." she shook her head.

Hermione patted her shoulder again and gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Then she turned and made for the bathroom, clutching the orange paste and eying it suspiciously.

* * *

Ginny uncurled herself from the cramped position she had been in and watch as Hermione wandered in, looking very thoughtful. She looked different somehow. Ginny frowned, trying to think what had changed, and suddenly realised.

"Hermione! Your bruise has gone!"

Hermione looked up and her frown lines vanished as she smiled. "Yeah, that orange stuff was great – dab it on and the bruise just vanishes..." she grinned, and sat on her own bed, leaning on the wall.

"You look great without it." Ginny said shyly. Hermione smiled slightly. "By the way, I wanted a word. Something happened earlier..." her previous mood came back, and she sat still for a second, brooding.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "What?" she asked. "Oh! Do you mean when we left? I'm really sorry about that Gin but Harry wouldn't take no for an answer and I didn't know where you were and we wouldn't have all fitted under the cloak anyway and – and..."

Ginny snorted. "Hermione, please. I would've preferred you to tell me where you were going, but I guess I would've just wanted to tag along. It's not about that; I'm not that petty or that bitter. It's about...well. It's about money."

Hermione's heart sank. _Dammit._

"Oh right." She said brightly. "What about it?"

"At Gringotts earlier..."

Haltingly, Ginny told the story of the money in the Weasley's vault and the information the goblin gave them.

"...and I think I know who it was." Ginny finished.

Hermione's smile had gone. "Oh yes? And what makes you say that?"

Ginny gulped. "I've just got a feeling."

"And what are you going to do about it?" Hermione continued, looking Ginny straight in the eye.

"Nothing."

Hermione nodded. "Good."

From that, Ginny knew that Hermione knew that she knew that Hermione did it without her ever saying, it, and she knew that Hermione wanted her to keep quiet about it. Trying to follow that rather confusing thought, Ginny put the money to the back of her mind; there was nothing she could do about it anyway. The goblin said it was an irreversible transaction.

* * *

"Harry." Ron said quietly, throwing another pair of socks into his trunk.

"Aren't you glad we've not got Snape this year?" Harry babbled, also throwing things pell-mell into his trunk.

"Harry." Ron said a little louder. Harry stopped.

"What?" He asked.

"I'm never gonna make the team, am I?"

Harry looked on blankly. "Oh, Quidditch? Why not?" He asked. Ron held up his broom by way of answer, and Harry watched as a couple of tail-twigs dropped out. He sighed.

"Look, I'll judge on ability. If you should be on the team maybe they'll get you a broom; they did for me, and I could've bought one myself. McGonagall even bent the rules for me, since when does she ever do that? She's got a soft spot for Quidditch, Ron, don't worry."

Ron sighed and laid his broomstick diagonally over everything in his trunk, shaking his head.

* * *

Mrs Weasley hurried up the street, looking around her worriedly. She should've at least let someone know she was coming, she thought. She didn't slow until she was in the shop and, looking around at all the models, sighed. What wa she looking for, exactly?

* * *

"Hermione?" Ginny asked after a considerable amount of silence.

"Yes?" She answered, rolling over.

"Oh. I was just checking you weren't asleep, we haven't had dinner yet and mum wouldn't be pleased." Ginny said, grimacing as her tummy grumbled loudly. Hermione laughed.

"Hey, Gin, I've been wondering..."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Go on."

"This is gonna sound weird. But...why do you think Dumbledore never got married, had kids?" she finished in a rush. Ginny snorted.

"Really? Oh dear. Okay... I'll start with a question. How do you know he didn't?"

Hermione stopped. "Oh. Well, I guess he just doesn't...seem..."

"The type?" Ginny asked with a grin. Hermione nodded, cheeks flaming. "Well, how come McGonagall didn't?" Ginny continued. "And Snape?"

Hermione looked dumbstruck. Then, slowly, she started talking. "Snape...is mean, cold. Cruel. No-one would want him...and he's...bitter. So...then...he wanted someone..."

"And that's as far as it went." Ginny finished, nodding.

"McGonagall..."

Ginny waited. Hermione stayed silent, but Ginny could see her face changing from confusion to disbelief and back again. Finally she got bored of waiting. "McGonagall loves Dumbledore." She said softly. "You can tell...her eyes. When she looks at him."

Hermione nodded. "So...is she not right for him, then? Why doesn't Dumbledore..."

"Don't you see?" Ginny whispered almost bitterly. Hermione shook her head and the silence dragged on for even longer than before, until they heard Mrs Weasley calling from downstairs. Then Ginny got up and stood at the door; finally, she spoke just before she disappeared down the stairs.

"Dumbledore's gay, Hermione."

**Nearly time for Hogwarts! Reviews please, and thanks for sticking with me :D **

**By the way, this is more or less true, Snape loved Lily Potter when she was Lily Evans and never stopped, hence his Patronus being a doe (book 7), Dumbledore is gay (J.K. told people and it all got in the news), I dunno about McGonagall but hey :/ I think it works!**

**For those that don't know there was loads of stuff in the media about Dumbledore and J.K. was really annoyed that everyone thought it was such a massive thing...guess that's why she didn't put it in the books in the first place, cause she knew everyone would make a fuss. **

**Anyway, please let me know whether you're enjoying it!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: not mine! Bored of these! Yawn!**

**Chapter 13**

Hermione sat on the bed, shocked. When she thought it through, it made sense...but how did Ginny know? That was what bothered her; not the facts or the information, just the fact that Ginny knew. Could she tell? How?

She heard Mrs Weasley's footsteps on the stairs and jumped up hurriedly, heading for the door. She met Mrs Weasley half-way down the stairs.

"Dinner's ready, dear." Mrs Weasley twinkled, and she continued up the next staircase to Ron's room.

Hermione sighed. That meant Ginny would be the only one down there, unless Mr Weasley was.

* * *

Mrs Weasley turfed the boys out and headed back down, smiling a secret smile. She couldn't wait until after dinner; she wanted to see her children's faces.

* * *

Dinner was over quickly, and Ron asked for pudding. His stomach backed him up by grumbling and Hermione looked at him in astonishment. "How can your stomach grumble _after_ a meal?" she asked, genuinely astounded. Ginny smirked.

Hermione had avoided Ginny's eyes all through the meal and Ginny noted it. Was she uncomfortable with it, would this ruin her admiration for the headmaster? Was she just surprised? Was she annoyed that she hadn't noticed it herself? Ginny cursed Hermione's skill at hiding her emotions, particularly stress, and concentrated on the bowl of cake Mrs Weasley plunked in front of her. She saw three colours and realised they were left over from the party. She smiled at the memory and looked around the kitchen, finally spotting Boo sat on the draining board stealing the single left-over chip.

* * *

Harry looked between the girls; it was unusual to see them sat apart but no-one else seemed to notice. Ron was too dejected and his parents seemed very keyed up and anxious. Harry shrugged inwardly, caught Hermione's eye and mouthed, "You ok?" while trying to gesture to Ginny too. Hermione bit her lip, shrugged, smiled and nodded. Harry smiled back and dug into his cake.

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley, that was fantastic!" he said enthusiastically. Mrs Weasley smiled fondly at him, and noticing everyone else also finished he jumped up to clear the plates. There was a general scram to help and soon the various sponges, clothes and brushes were half-submerged in hot soapy water and carefully washing the plates, cutlery, dishes, pots and pans. Unsupervised, of course.

When the four returned to the table they each found a parcel in their places. Two were very obvious shapes; long and thin. These were for Ron and Ginny. Harry and Hermione each had square packages and Ron had one of these too.

"Take them upstairs." Mrs Weasley smiled.

* * *

Ron couldn't believe it. He had a broom – or he thought he did, not much else was made in those proportions...he grinned. That must be because of the money in the vault...he wondered what sort it was and shivered in anticipation.

* * *

Ginny raced upstairs, unable to believe it. Hermione hurried after her and, each sat on their own beds, pulled the brown paper off their packages. Hermione's was a box with the remains of her cake (the second page of the open book) and she knew that it was just so her and Harry didn't feel left out – not that she was complaining, it was a lovely thought.

She turned her attention to Ginny, who was tugging impatiently at the paper on her broom. A beautifully shaped tail was sticking out one end and a perfectly smooth and glossy handle. Even Hermione, who didn't particularly enjoy flying and didn't know the first thing about broomsticks, could see this was a magnificent specimen.

The paper tore with a loud rip and the model was clear to see. Hermione sighed with relief; it wasn't a Nimbus Two-Thousand and One, which the Slytherin team had. Nothing could have been worse.

It was a Firebolt. Hermione felt her mouth drop open and hurriedly shut it; she didn't know there was enough for two Firebolts in the vault – hell, she didn't even know how much they cost. She heard feet pounding the stairs and braced herself as Ron flung the door open. "Ever heard of knocking?" she asked sarcastically, but Ron seemed not to hear her.

"Ginny, did you get – me too! Isn't this amazing? Whoever put that money in the vault, I love them... this is so cool, these do 0-150 miles an hour in 10 seconds, can you believe it? That must be why there's the foot rests, otherwise we'd slide off the back...the new Cleansweep Elevens only do 0-70 in ten, and the newest Comets – think they're Two-Nineties – okay they're not built for speed but they only do 0-60-"

"Ron!" Ginny shouted. "I don't care about the facts, I know these are the best!" she was grinning bigger that Hermione had ever seen before and her happiness was infectious. Ron ran out and down the stairs and Ginny followed. Hermione, shocked by the sudden silence, carried on smiling.

* * *

Mrs Weasley heard the feet hammering overhead and smiled to herself. First one and then another of her children burst into the kitchen, each holding a broom and grinning ear to ear. Ginny threw her arms around her mother while Ron was off again, spewing out facts as loud as he could.

Finally Mrs Weasley managed to shut him up and she said, "They're alright then? The lady in the shop told me they're very good but they were also a tiny fraction of the original price because they'll soon be replaced...she nearly had a fit when I said I wanted two, but like I said they were relatively cheap compared to this new one that's on its way...of course they were still a lot, but I expect most are..."

Her children were staring at her, open-mouthed. "What?" she asked.

"Mum, you know that these are...these are the best brooms in the whole _world_?" Ron asked hoarsely.

"Literally, the best ever?" Ginny added.

Mrs Weasley stopped. "Um, no, I didn't." She said. There's a Firebolt S480 coming out in May next year though."

* * *

Ron walked slowly up the stairs, cursing the darkness and the shorter days. He wanted to try his broom, even though he knew it was just the same as Harry's, but instead he was going to have to wait until he was at Hogwarts – it would be the day after next at the earliest, but probably not for another week. He cursed again under his breath as he opened the door.

* * *

Hermione squinted into the darkness. "Gin?" she asked. "You awake?"

Ginny groaned. "I was hoping you'd forgotten." she whispered.

"No. Anyway it's not late really is it? We can sleep on the train...well, after I've done the prefect rounds anyway."

"It's not late." Ginny replied impatiently.

"So. What's wrong? Why is this upsetting you so much? Is he in Slytherin?" Hermione asked as she crossed the room in two strides and stole the spare part of Ginny's duvet.

"I wouldn't do that." Ginny warned.

"Why not? Am I going to be so disgusted I can't even bear to be close to you?" Hermione asked sarcastically. She felt Ginny shrug in the darkness.

"You looked...surprised earlier. When I said about Dumbledore." She said.

"Don't change the subject! But yes, I wondered...how you knew." Hermione couldn't help it. She was curious.

She felt Ginny shrug again. "I don't know for sure. I'm just guessing. Does it bother you?"

"What, that you're guessing? Should it?" Hermione asked. Ginny snorted.

"For an intelligent girl, Hermione, you can be really stupid. I meant, does it bother you that he's gay? If he is, obviously."

Hermione shook her head, suddenly uncomfortable with discussing their headmaster's private life. Ginny saw her against the slightly lighter window and smiled to herself. Now for the real test.

"So." Hermione said brightly, as Ginny knew she would. "Who is he?"

Ginny left the sentence hanging for a moment, then said slowly and carefully, "What if it's not a he?"

* * *

"What if it's not a he?" Ginny asked. Hermione's heart stopped.

She lay unmoving for a moment, and then finally opened her mouth.

"What?" she choked.

"What if it's not a he?" Ginny repeated calmly.

Hermione sat for a few seconds, seemingly struck dumb, and then turned over to face the redhead. "As in, you're in love with a girl?" she asked quietly. She felt rather than saw Ginny smirk.

"Does that bother you?" She asked. "I did tell you that you might want to stay in your own bed."

Hermione took a deep wobbly breath.

"No-o..." She started. "...who is it?" she asked.

Ginny laughed bitterly. "Isn't it obvious yet?" she asked. "Hermione Jean Granger...I love you."

**Guess I sneaked another lil chapter in there before the train...still. Sorry about that :/ Nearly time for Hogwarts. Reviews please!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: not mine, only the storyline, the rest is J. K. Rowling's hard work :)**

**Chapter 14**

Hermione settled into the back of the car, magically stretched to fit all the trunks and people inside, and relaxed against the seat with Harry on one side and Ron on the other. Mr Weasley was the other side of Harry, talking enthusiastically about aeroplanes (which Harry, left with Mrs Figg even for just days out, had never had the chance to go near) and telephones (following the unfortunate episode two years ago before the World Cup, when Ron had had a run-in with Vernon Dursley while shouting through the phone).

She looked at Ron, asleep against the window with his mouth wide open, and sighed, remembering the events of the night before.

"_Isn't it obvious yet? Hermione Jean Granger, I love you."_

She remembered the shocked silence, which hadn't yet been broken. Ginny must be mistaken; she was like a sister to the younger witch, she was just muddling her feelings...and Ginny'd had plenty of boyfriends before...they couldn't have meant nothing to her. Or were they experiments? How come Ginny had never said anything before now?

She refused to contemplate her own feelings. She pushed the memory of recognition at Harry's words away, as far away as she could manage. She forced herself into Hogwarts student and prefect mode and prepared to spend the whole train journey in the prefect's compartment, where Ginny couldn't go.

* * *

Harry, finally granted a break from Mr Weasley's cross-examination of Muggle life, sat in silence, watching Ginny in the front seat between her mother and the driver. Her red hair shimmered in the sunlight and he longed to reach out and run his fingers through the waves of auburn colour.

Thinking of the rush and panic of the morning, he allowed himself to relax against the soft leather. He smiled at a memory, almost laughing aloud.

_The driver heaved one end of a trunk onto the boot and, with a hand from Mr Weasley, slid it into place. It fitted snugly in beside the others, almost as if it were made for the car – which it probably was, Harry reminded himself. Then out of the back door Ron came running, his new broom held gingerly in his hands; in his haste he tripped over the assorted Wellington boots on the step and crashed headlong into the dirt without letting go his broom to break his fall. He blushed a furious red as he heard Fleur laughing behind him and Bill saying something about how clumsy his littlest brother had always been._

_He sat up and rubbed down the broom, checking for any damage and caressing the twigs almost lovingly. Harry knew he was itching to try it._

_Ron heaved himself to his feet without using his hands, which were busy with the broom, and walked delicately over to the driver. "Will this fit?" He asked, still stroking the broom. The driver held his hand out and Ron flinched, hugging the broom to him. Then, slowly, he held it out. The driver took it and transferred it roughly into the boot, pulling it sideways to make it fit alongside Ginny's and forcing the handle end in. Ron's face became a mask of horror as his precious broom was man-handled and he stood, frozen, until he was sure it was safe. Then he took a couple of steps away and again landed in the dust, sprawling backwards over a madly giggling gnome and a spitting Crookshanks. He cursed, causing Mrs Weasley to cluck her tongue loudly, and stood up slowly._

_Ginny came running down the stairs, leaping nimbly over the boots and over the ginger cat, and came to rest holding two cages out towards the driver. In one, Hedwig's wing was covering her snowy head and in the other, Boo looked around with bright, interested eyes. In the sunlight she looked even browner; in dimmer lights she tended to look black and white when in fact the darker areas of her were a chocolaty brown._

"_Ron, Pig's in the kitchen on the draining board." Ginny said just as Hermione brought him out. Ginny handed over the two she was carrying to the driver and took Pig from Hermione without looking at her. "Thanks." She muttered._

_Harry looked between them and didn't comment._

Now, Harry thought about this strange new development of surliness between the two girls and wondered what could have happened. He hoped he wasn't to blame, making Hermione confront Ginny.

* * *

Two Aurors were waiting at King's Cross, identically dressed and each with a beard. Ginny almost laughed – they looked like twins. She thought of her brothers in Diagon Alley.

Platforms nine and ten were crowded with Muggles and wizards alike; Ginny saw a few well-disguised trunks and animals, but many more carried openly amongst the staring Muggle commuters, who were dressed in business-like suits and carrying briefcases, or dressed scruffily and carrying suitcases and rucksacks. She smiled as she saw the barrier to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters waiting for them.

Mrs Weasley, flustered, directed Mr Weasley through first and asked one of the Aurors to take Harry. Ginny rolled her eyes as he gripped the boy's upper arm tightly, and smiled as Harry jerked him off and said irritably, "I can walk, thanks."

_This is all a bit too radical,_ she thought to herself as she was ushered through the barrier next with Ron and Hermione. She purposely let Ron slip between herself and the brunette sixth-year; she knew Hermione would appreciate the distance.

On the platform, the scarlet train stood in wait as always. Ginny smiled fondly as it belched smoke and steam and whistled loudly – they only had a few minutes spare. She hugged her mother and dragged her trunk towards the train, struggling with the unfamiliar shape of Boo's cage. On her way she saw Harry speaking quite urgently to Mr Weasley and waved, aware that she had already made her farewells to her father; he didn't see her. She shrugged and continued through the crowds, finally reaching the step and heaving the trunk up.

With some help from Luna and Neville, Ginny reached their compartment and settled into it. She resigned herself to a difficult journey, waiting and tense with suspense; if she knew anything about Hermione, she wouldn't make an appearance for the duration.

* * *

Hermione, curled alone in the prefect's carriage, sighed as she watched the countryside flash by. Ron had long since left to find their friends, eagerly discussing the lack of Malfoy in prefect duties, and she imagined him now sat with Neville, Luna, Harry and – her insides screwed themselves up – Ginny, eating sweets from the trolley and still discussing theories about Malfoy's sudden and uncharacteristic lack of interest in bullying younger students.

She looked up as the door slid open and found herself facing Ernie McMillan, Hannah Abbott, Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil, fellow sixth-year prefects. She smiled weakly and uncurled herself, sitting up to make space. The others looked at her curiously, but continued their conversation about this year's lessons and their O.W.L results without trying to include her. For that at least she was grateful.

Later on there was a knock at the compartment door and Hermione, looking up, saw Ginny poking her head around it. She looked quickly and determinedly out of the window.

"Hermione? Could I have a word?"

Hermione was surprised to hear a slight wobble in the redhead's voice and she looked up involuntarily. All four of the others were looking at her. She couldn't refuse but she made a point of dragging herself up grudgingly and followed Ginny back down the corridor a little way. The prefect's compartment was close to the engine in its own carriage and there was less glass and more solid wooden walls; this was the most private place on the train. Ginny found an empty compartment and led Hermione in. "Hermione..."

"What?" it came out more sharply than she'd intended.

"Look, I need to know how we stand...are you alright?" the last question surprised Ginny herself and Hermione knew it.

"Ginny, I'm fine. Shocked, angry you didn't say anything before, confused as hell, but...I'm fine."

"What're you confused about?" Ginny asked quickly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Hell-o, a girl just confessed her love to me, what do you think?"

Ginny imitated her eye-roll. "As in your feelings for me, or how come I've gone from lads to...not, or – what?"

"Everything..." Hermione whispered, struggling to control the tears pricking at her eyes. She turned angrily to stare out of the window. She heard footsteps behind her, but didn't turn.

"I always knew there was something wrong with the relationships I had." Ginny whispered. "I always thought it was because the lads I dated weren't Harry. Now I know I was wrong. Ever since before the Quidditch matches last year... I noticed all the other girls on the team sneaking glances at the lads changing into their Quidditch robes. Angelina used to watch the twins, and so many people looked at Harry... I used to get quite jealous. But more and more often I caught myself watching the girls watching the lads... I never watched Harry for myself."

During her speech Hermione had subconsciously turned round and now, she looked on a pretty face made bitter, twisted in confusion, anger, worry and grief. She lost herself in the brown eyes consumed with heartbreaking sadness and, imagining everything Ginny had described happening to herself, and felt a little of the girl's insecurity.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered.

"We weren't as close then. Anyway, what would I have said? 'Hermione, how you getting on with Arithmancy? Do you think I should give it a go? Can you help with this Potions work? Oh and by the way, I keep finding myself watching Katie Bell when we're changing before a match, what should I do?'" Ginny snorted and even Hermione allowed herself a small smile.

"Yeah. I guess that wouldn't have worked." She muttered, scrutinising the vulnerable face before her. "Who have you told?"

"Told what?" Ginny asked.

"That you're...you know..."

"Say it."

"Why?"

"Say it."

"...gay?" Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she said it and didn't re-open them. She hated the word, but more she hated seeing it applied to such a beautiful girl who would so easily find a husband and have her own family and be happy. It was wrong.

"Nobody. Well, besides you, obviously."

Hermione kept her eyes shut.

"Well?" Ginny demanded. "Say something."

"...thank you. For telling me all that." Hermione whispered. "I appreciate it."

There was a long silence, until finally Hermione opened her eyes to find Ginny staring at her.

"That's it?" She asked.

"What do you want me to say?" Hermione cried, burying her head in her hands. She waited a moment before raising it again. "I don't know what you want from me, Ginny." She said simply, looking up to find Ginny's eyes on hers. They were burning again.

"You do..." she whispered, stepping closer. Hermione took an involuntary step back, looking away as Ginny continued to advance until their toes were almost touching. Then, quite suddenly, Ginny hugged her – solidly and powerfully. "Come find me once you've worked it out, 'Mione. One way or the other." And she kissed a very muddled Hermione on the cheek.

Ginny whirled around as the compartment door slid open. "How touching." A voice said and both girls found themselves looking at Zacharias Smith, who was smirking. Clearly he had seen, through the small window on the door, the hug and Ginny's little peck.

"I... we... she was upset..." Ginny said vaguely.

"A likely story." The Hufflepuff snorted.

Hermione gathered herself. "What other explanation is there, really?" She snapped. "What sort of story were you expecting?"

Zacharias looked momentarily stumped. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out and taking advantage of this Ginny pulled out her wand and cried something. There was a shocked cry from both Zacharias and Hermione, and a shout reverberated down the carriage as around fifty huge, flapping somethings shot from Ginny's wand and converged on the interfering Hufflepuff. Ginny looked around, caught Hermione's eye and smirked. Hermione looked torn between amusement and disapproval.

A huge man appeared, puffing, in the doorway and mirrored Hermione's expression. He had little hair and boyish features; he could only be Professor Horace Slughorn, who Harry had convinced to come back to teach. Hermione thought she had never seen someone who looked less like a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

There was an uncomfortable pause as Slughorn performed the counter curse and sent Zacharias on his way; he looked gleeful as he realised a teacher had seen the hex performed. Hermione smiled grimly; he clearly expected Ginny to be well punished. Ginny looked slightly worried; the thought had clearly occurred to her too.

"Well, Miss..."

"Wealsey." Ginny finished miserably.

"Miss Weasley, that was the best example of the Bat-Bogey Hex I have ever seen...now, the school term hasn't technically started yet, has it?"

"...No, sir..." Ginny looked up, holding her breath; Hermione imitated her, her fingers crossed behind her back.

"Well then, our secret, hey?" Slughorn twinkled down at Ginny and then over to Hermione, who nodded and smiled. "What say you to a spot of lunch in my compartment, Miss Weasley? I've got a few people coming..." he ushered Ginny out, in full flow about the famous people he had met in the past, and Hermione remembered Harry's description of the 'trophy cabinet' he had seen at Slughorn's 'borrowed' house. She emptied her head just in time to look up and see Ginny trying to catch her eye; she knew she was trying to remind her of her last words to the older girl.

Hermione sighed. Why was nothing ever easy?

**This counts as Hogwarts, right?...it's near enough ;) Reviews please! :D**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: not mine! Bored of these! Yawn!**

**Thank you so much for all the alerts and reviews people, I feel so happy when I get the emails :D :) keep it up!**

**Chapter 15**

Hermione hurriedly clambered into the already-full carriage, holding a squirming Crookshanks.

"Where's Harry?" She asked Ron as it jerked into action. She smiled fondly out of the front where she knew a Thestral was harnessed, although she couldn't see it, and remembered the journey to the Ministry at the end of the previous year; travelling quickly, hundreds of feet in the air and with no visible means of support, was pretty scary.

"He was in that lunch thing. With Slughorn." Ginny said.

Ron shrugged, shoving Owl Treats through the bars of a squealing Pigwidgeon's cage. "He went somewhere under his Cloak. He'll be in another carriage." He said vaguely, catching Hedwig's cage between his feet as it slid across the floor.

* * *

Ginny sat in a corner of the carriage and said nothing more. Hermione was giving nothing away; only Luna was watching her for an unusually long time, but Luna always did with someone. Everyone else was busy talking or, in Neville's case, stroking his cactus – _Mimbulus Mimbletonia_ – Ginny smiled at the memory of the Stinksap episode exactly one year ago, on the train.

Nobody was looking concerned or worried; Hermione simply hid it too well.

* * *

Ron looked up and down the packed Gryffindor table, and couldn't spot Harry. He shrugged and sat down, stomach grumbling loudly, preparing for the long wait through the Sorting before the meal finally appeared.

"Where is he?" Hermione whimpered, clearly anxious. Ron shrugged again.

"He'll turn up, Hermione, he can look after himself. More than can be said for that lot." He added with a smirk. The first years had filed into the hall and they were stood in a row, all looking more petrified than Hermione had in their second year. They were looking around with wide eyes, but none had noticed the ceiling yet.

"Ron! Bless them, they're so small..."

Suddenly one looked up, a tiny girl with jet black hair, and soon they were all doing it. Ron smirked, then felt the smile slide off his face like Neville's cactus' Stinksap as his stomach groaned loudly again. He massaged it and looked around the hall impatiently; McGonagall was just unrolling the scroll, the Hat already on the three-legged stool before her, and just as Ron's stomach made to complain once more the hat opened its – mouth? Brim? – and began to sing.

As it got going, Ron switched off. He remembered last year's song, and realised suddenly how appropriate it had been. As sections of the song drifted through his mind, he cursed hindsight to the deepest and most fiery depths of hell.

"_For were there such friends anywhere as Slytherin and Gryffindor?...And Hogwarts barely started, the Founders of our noble school thought never to be parted…while the bravest and the boldest went to daring Gryffindor…though condemned I am to split you, still I worry that it's wrong…for our Hogwarts is in danger from external deadly foes and we must unite inside her, or we'll crumble from within. I have told you, I have warned you…let the Sorting now begin."_

Ron remembered more snippets but the last words of the song kept on coming back. _"I have told you, I have warned you…let the Sorting now begin." _He thought how disagreeing he'd been, heard again his laugh…_"fat chance!"_, he'd said. Well, still he thought so; Gryffindors and Slytherins were never going to get along, and nor did he want them to. But as the Hat finished this year's song and Ron again became aware of his biting hunger, he realized how important the Hat's message had been and wished he had tried a little harder to remember and listen to it.

* * *

Hermione, tense and anxious, barely ate at all through the main course or the dessert. Ginny watched her carefully, selfishly hoping it was her that was stopping Hermione eating, but from the way she kept glancing around the Hall she knew it was Harry the brunette was really worrying about. Ginny too didn't eat well.

* * *

Hermione sighed with relief as the doors swung open and Harry entered, accompanied by Snape. Her sigh turned to a gasp as she registered the blood and swollen nose; she poked Ron, who, like most of the other students, was so busy eating he hadn't noticed Harry yet. He too stared, open-mouthed, as the skinny young wizard sped between the tables and slid between them. Hermione noted the half-chewed food visible in Ron's with distaste and looked away pointedly.

"Where've you been? And what have you done to your face?" she hissed as Harry hurriedly reached for the treacle tart. Just as his fingers reached it, it vanished. He scooped up a spoon instead and examined his reflection, grudgingly letting Hermione siphon the dried blood off with the _tergeo_ charm.

* * *

Ginny watched the three friends from across the table and down a way, where she was sat with a few of her...people. They weren't really friends, Ginny knew; she was a popular girl but there was no-one at Hogwarts besides Harry and Hermione who she counted as true friends. She smiled to herself, making an imaginary list in her mind. _Friends: 2._Hopefully that number would soon become a one.

Ginny started as the Hall fell silent, and looked up to see Dumbledore standing behind the great golden eagle owl, which spread it's wings to accommodate the paper. She sank down into a bit of a daze as she heard him explain why they had been searched. _Duh,_ she thought.

Finally, she heard mutterings all around the room. "Potions? _Potions?_" she looked up to see the new teacher, who had dragged her to the lunch on the carriage, and felt her mouth fall open as the full implications of the whispers sank in. Her worst fears were realised when Dumbledore spoke again.

"The post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher will be filled by our very own Professor Snape."

Ginny felt anger smoulder and then burn inside her as the Slytherins clapped and cheered loudly. The rest of the houses sat in gloomy, shocked silence.

"At least there's one good thing to come out of this. That post's cursed. Snape'll be gone by the end of the year, and personally I'm keeping my fingers crossed for another death." Ginny heard Harry's voice carry down the table a ways. She smirked.

* * *

Hermione felt the shock reverberate through her and sat in a daze as the Hall erupted around her. She suddenly remembered the first-years and jumped to her feet, not really concentrating but calling all the little ones towards her, digging desperately through her already overcrowded mind to find the password for this week. Finally managing it, she smiled at all the youngsters. "Tired? Come on. Try and remember the route, but don't worry too much if you can't!" she turned on her heel and led them out of the hall.

"The new password's 'Abstinence'." She said to the line of first-years as they reached the seventh floor, quickly checking first to make sure they were alone. For good measure she also checked the roof for Peeves.

The Fat Lady smiled. "Indeed it is." She confirmed, and swung forwards.

Hermione ushered the tiny kids into the round common room, and watched fondly as they clambered awkwardly through the portrait hole. After six years of it she was used to it; but she remembered Neville needing a leg-up, exactly six years ago, and grinned. Seeing the Fat Lady swing shut, she addressed the little crowd.

"This room is for all the Gryffindors. You can do your homework here, or just use it as a place to hang around in. And for your dormitories; boys, up on the right, girls on the left." She indicated the staircases and smiled as the crowd made - as one - for the stairs, unwilling to split up.

As soon as she was alone, the smile slid off her face. She went up the stairs, stifling a yawn, and walked into the dormitory, forcing another smile for Lavender and Parvati. Then she quickly got ready for bed and lay down, sinking into a warm and comfy state of dozing. She heard the other two girls talking and unpacking quietly, and pushed away thoughts that she should do the same; she was too busy thinking about the conversation on the train earlier. She let the tears flow gently onto her pillow, refusing to make a sound; then, quite suddenly, she almost smiled. What would the other two think if they knew what was going on in her mind? Come to that, what about the girls in Ginny's dormitory?

* * *

Ginny slid between the warm covers, feeling her eyelids droop. She bit her lip as her thoughts turned – as the so often did – to Hermione; she found herself wondering what her room mates, who were like her almost asleep, would think if they knew what Hermione knew.

Thinking back a few years, Ginny remembered some things. Still in her dozing state, it was all a bit fuzzy.

_In Ginny's second year, the train had shuddered to a halt and the lights were out. It was getting extremely cold. Suddenly the compartment door opened and in the doorway, a figure stood – no, hovered. Ginny felt a biting cold that went deeper than any she had felt before and she was abruptly overwhelmed with memories that haunted her from the year before – of Tom Riddle, her worry about the attacks, the panic each time she found a blank time of nothingness in which she could have been doing anything, the guilt and hysteria that clutched at her each time she realised that these periods of emptiness coincided with attacks or writing on the wall or dying roosters...her fear when she found herself in the Chamber with that great snake, and her revulsion at the knowledge that she had been possessed by the greatest dark wizard of all time...and then, the cold was fading. People were talking to her, and a voice she didn't recognise was calling Harry's name. Ginny opened her eyes and found the train lit and moving; remembering what had happened and realising how much she was shaking she buried her head in her hands, sobbing, and felt a warm form hug her close. Hermione._

_In the tent, much bigger inside than outside, it was really quite warm. Ginny hugged herself with anticipation for the coming match and leaned down off the bunk she was sat on to look at the one below, where Hermione was lying on her back reading a book. Big surprise. Ginny smiled to herself and called her quietly. "'Mione?"  
__Hermione jumped and looked up, almost sub-consciously marking her page and laying her book down. "Hey. What's the matter?" she asked.  
__Ginny poured out her heart. Hermione smiled gently and shook her head. "Relax. If you're so tense around him he'll never get to see you for who you are. If you act normal, like you are with me now, there'll be no way he can resist you." Hermione smiled more widely._

Ginny opened her eyes. That'd been before she knew...she wished she had read the signs before. How much longer could she have had, with or without Hermione? How much time could she have had knowing who she really was, instead of wasting time with the likes of Zacharias Smith? She lay in bed, cursing the truth Hermione had spoken before the World Cup. Why was she so damn smart?

In hindsight, she also thought of that last smile. Had it been tinged with a hint of sadness, or was that wishful thinking?

**Finally got to Hogwarts :) Reviews please! Thank you for all the lovely comments :D**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: All belongs to the rather amazing J. K. Rowling. Humph.**

**Alerts and reviews make me happy :D got some, but more would be appreciated!**

**Think this is pretty much the longest chapter yet, so enjoy...**

**Chapter 16**

Ginny opened her eyes. The light was weak and her eyes felt gritty; she sighed. Her first day of lessons and her sleep had been minimal and broken at best. It was going to be a long week.

* * *

Hermione woke in the small hours before dawn, feeling her eyes puffy and liable to close. She sighed; her workload wasn't going to allow much time to catch up on sleep, and neither was Ginny. She curled herself into a tiny ball and buried her head in her pillow until Lavender's alarm began to wail.

* * *

Ginny smirked as Ron's face fell; Potions was still on the cards for him, and he wasn't happy about it.

"At least it's not Snape." She heard Harry mutter, and Ginny alone saw Professor McGonagall's slightly disapproving but mainly amused glance as she moved on down the tables to distribute timetables. Looking at her own, Ginny smiled. She had Charms first, and she would be with the Ravenclaws. That mean Luna would be in her class. Then her heart slid down her chest a little what as she remembered Luna's uncanny ability of knowing when something wasn't quite right; she made up a quick story in her head, hoping she wouldn't need it.

* * *

Hermione planned for dinner all through the day, paying little attention in Arithmancy (which she regretted later), Herbology or Charms. The only lesson she was truly awake for was Potions, because the Felix Felicis was up for grabs and she felt sure she could win it - it would certainly be helpful. The potion the class had to brew was quite tricky, but her mind still strayed despite the prize – Hermione was thinking about how much a little luck would help her now, tonight. If only she won it!

She didn't.

Harry followed some duff instructions scribbled in a second-hand book and beat Hermione in a lesson? She knew it shouldn't bother her so much, but like in the O.W.L results for Defence Against the Dark Arts Hermione wasn't used to being outshined – and she didn't like it.

Transfiguration passed in a blur – the usually conscientious young student sat in a daze, not taking anything Professor McGonagall said in at all. Her thoughts had strayed to dinner and to Ginny. She was surprised to feel Harry poking her in the ribs.

"Oi. Wake up."

Hermione blinked and looked around; everyone was watching her. She looked up at the Professor, who regarded her with complete neutrality. "I was wondering if you knew, Miss Granger, anything about Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration?"

Hermione blinked again, gathering her thoughts. "There are five exceptions?" she asked weakly. "Food, money, bringing back the dead..." she faded off. She could not remember the other two exceptions. She blinked a third time, slightly shocked, but McGonagall went with what she had said and troubled her no further.

At the end of the lesson, Hermione felt like she had butterflies inside her. She stood and walked towards the door, as usual at the back of a crowd, and tried to calm down – it was only a meal, even if the prospects were a little more unusual. She examined her feelings, and knew it was being alone with Ginny that so excited her. She wanted to reach out to the younger witch and grip her hands tightly, or pull her into a warm hug...she looked up to find Harry and Ron looking at her. She blushed.

"What?"

Harry and Ron continued to look from her to a point over her shoulder, so Hermione turned around and found herself face-to-face with Minerva McGonagall. She squeaked slightly; she wasn't expecting the Deputy Head to be so close to her. She assumed she had been spoken to again, and been unresponsive.

"A word, if you please, Miss Granger."

Hermione watched as Harry and Ron shuffled out, shutting the door, and then walked to the seat her teacher indicated and perched on its edge. _Damn._

When the intimidating Transfiguration teacher spoke again, having pulled up a chair next to Hermione's, the girl was surprised to hear the teacher's voice was very soft and gentle.

"Are you alright, Hermione? You don't seem yourself."

Hermione jumped at the unusual use of her first name and tried to answer. Her voice wouldn't obey her and when she finally managed a sound, it was a croaky and high-pitched, "I'm fine."

McGonagall regarded her with some amusement. "No, you're not." She answered as a slow blush swept over Hermione's face.

Hermione sighed. "I'm just...struggling... with – something." she muttered, looking down and picking at a loose thread on her robes.

"A spell? A potion?" McGonagall tried. "Or...something outside of the classroom, perhaps."

Hermione looked up, startled. Perhaps her favourite Professor was more perceptive than she seemed.

McGonagall smiled. "Got you. So, is anything wrong? Is anyone...calling you anything?"

From the way her teacher's hands curled up, she was speaking of Malfoy – or at least his favourite nickname for the brunette witch. Hermione shook her head. "Nothing like that. I learn to live with that, I don't retaliate any more. What's the point?"

Minerva nodded. "Very wise." She said quietly, relaxing slightly. She looked up sharply. "Still, my question stands; what is so wrong that it can prevent you from paying attention in class? Particularly one I know you enjoy?"

Hermione bit her lip. She couldn't lie; McGonagall would know. "Ginny Weasley." She whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and mentally face-palming. _I__diot_, her mind told her.

"What about her?"

"She...she told me that...she said she..." Hermione swallowed hard. "She told me she loves me and I don't know what to do." Hermione finished in a rush, looking anywhere but her teacher's face. Yes, she trusted Minerva McGonagall; but why was she here, talking about her personal life to someone who really was a complete stranger (in the personal sense)? She felt incredibly foolish, and she wondered what Minerva's response would be; her face burned at the possibilities.

Minerva sighed. "Am I to assume that you mean Miss Weasley's many boyfriends have been...well, wrong for her? Not exactly what she was looking for?"

Hermione nodded.

"I see. Well, Hermione, why is it troubling you so?"

Hermione looked up in surprise. "...why?" she managed. "Why? It's...weird, it's...wrong..."

Minerva's lips became a thin line. Hermione knew she had made her Head of House angry. "What is wrong?" Minerva asked calmly.

"Ginny...me...I'm...yeah."

"Loving someone who is the same sex as you is not wrong, Hermione. Love is never wrong." She smiled strangely, and Hermione remembered Ginny's prediction that Minerva loved Dumbledore. She shook her head, wondering at the choice of words; it was strange to her the stern woman before her speaking so bluntly, especially about such matters.

"I know it's not technically wrong, it's just... I don't know. I've never, ever thought about her like that..." Hermione blushed suddenly as she realised what she was saying and to whom. She had forgotten for a moment, but now she wondered again what she was playing at.

McGonagall smiled. "I bet you have."

Hermione blinked and stared at her. _What?_

Minerva smiled again, one of her rare grins, and stood up. "I trust it will no longer bother you in my class, Miss Granger" – Hermione recognised the renewed use of her surname and realised the return to formality – "and I expect you to either owl me or visit me when anything major happens." She smiled again, and Hermione had a brief image of what the older witch would have looked like at around her own age before the picture faded and she nodded numbly, the reality of what she had done still sinking in.

"Miss Granger?" Hermione looked up. "You know where I am, should you ever want to talk. I appreciate your two main friends are boys, and, well...they can be a little difficult to confide in sometimes."

* * *

"When are you holding the trials, mate? You should get a notice up on the board."

"I dunno, maybe the weekend? I'm not sure..."

Ginny wrinkled her nose as Ron burped loudly, but made no comment. She had been listening to their conversation, although she purposely sat a little away from them. The sky outside and in the Great Hall was grey and cloudy, which reflected her own mood, and Ginny suddenly longed for her owl.

She jumped, the piled forkful of food slopping back onto the plate and splashing gravy over her, as a small voice whispered in her ear.

"I'm going out to the lake. Come take a walk once you've eaten – not now."

Hermione walked towards the doors, leaving Ginny sat at the Gryffindor table trying to mop the brown stains off the white cloth.

It wasn't long before Ginny gave up; she wasn't hungry. She too left the Hall, leaving Harry patiently waiting for Ron, who was still shovelling food down as if there was a century-long famine forecast to start tomorrow. She shook her head, smiling. Ron never changed.

Minerva McGonagall watched from the staff table and smiled as Ginny followed Hermione out of the double doors.

Down by the lake the light was fading and it was cold enough that there would be a frost by morning. Ginny barely noticed as she eagerly scanned the banks for the figure she longed to see.

Hermione wasn't there.

Ginny walked down to the very edge of the black, mirror-smooth water, still scanning the grass; no, Hermione wasn't there. Suddenly registering the cold, Ginny tucked her hands inside her sleeves and made to walk back up to the castle, downcast and disappointed despite herself.

"Ginny?"

Ginny nearly fell in the lake as Hermione sat up, disturbing the Disillusionment Charm which had hidden her where she was leaning against a tree. Slowly she walked towards the older witch, who had tapped herself smartly on the head with her wand and was now standing up and dusting herself off as her form returned to normal and visible.

"What's this all about?" she asked quietly.

"I know we won't get disturbed." Hermione shrugged. "No-one in their right minds would be out here, its freezing."

Ginny smiled. "Guess I'm not in my right mind, then..." she took a step closer to Hermione, who suddenly looked uncomfortable. Ginny looked down, abashed, and took a deep breath. "I've been thinking..."

"Me, too." Hermione nodded. "Too much."

Ginny looked up. "What've you been thinking about?"

"You. Me. _Us."_

"And?" Ginny asked. "Are you alright, have I messed you up?"

"A little." Hermione said, the corners of her mouth pulling up in a small smile. "I forgive you, though. I'm just...well. Confused."

Ginny held out her hands, and Hermione slowly took them. "So you still don't know?" She whispered. Hermione shook her head.

"I don't know how I will know." She muttered. "It's not like I have any experience of relationships...never kissed anyone..." Ginny saw the brunette's face burn, and smiled.

"There's a first time for everything." She replied.

* * *

Hermione hung her head, ashamed that her lack of boyfriends was causing them both grief. She suddenly wished fiercely that she had been a little more forward with Viktor.

Hermione looked up and noticed, yet again, that hard, blazing look in Ginny's eyes. Their interlinked fingers felt so natural, Hermione barely even registered them – what she did register was Ginny's response to her confession.

"There's a first time for everything." Hermione felt herself go cold with panic at the thought.

"Didn't you ever kiss Krum?" Ginny asked suddenly. Hermione felt her blush intensify.

"No-o..."

"I sense a but."

"He tried." Hermione admitted. "But I moved...I didn't let him. It- it...wasn't right."

"What, right time? Or right person?"

Hermione shrugged. "Not sure." She whispered. "But I moved away...why did I move? I should've stayed..."

"Keep that in mind, then." Ginny said, and quite suddenly Hermione realised what she was going to do. She felt frozen, she couldn't move; all she knew was the warmth of someone's incredibly soft lips on her own. It was hesitant and careful, but it felt like a fire shot right through Hermione into her stomach and she reacted instinctively. It was deliberate and slow. Then, quite suddenly, she realised – for the second time that day - what she'd done.

* * *

Ginny leant forwards and captured Hermione's lips with her own, using the element of surprise to stop her from moving away, and after some hesitation she felt the older girl suddenly return the kiss. Ginny's mind went blissfully blank as a warm tingling sensation erupted inside her stomach and she felt the hesitant and quiet nature of the exchange quickly begin to dissolve. She gently ended it and looked directly into Hermione's eyes – she saw the pleasure and pure happiness get clouded with sudden confusion.

"What...?" the brunette witch dropped Ginny's hands abruptly and twisted her own together, not looking at the younger girl.

Ginny smirked slightly. "Pretty good, actually." She smiled. Hermione did not answer. "You can't tell me you didn't enjoy that, it was written all over you face."

Hermione suddenly turned around. "No, I'm not denying it. It was amazing. But it's...wrong...it's _weird_..."

"Only because you expected it to be." Ginny whispered, disguising how much that comment hurt her. "If you truly believed that, you wouldn't have enjoyed it...you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"Since part-way through my fourth year and during our stay at Grimmauld Place before my fifth?" Hermione guessed shrewdly.

Ginny stared at her. "How do you...?"

"I can see it in your eyes...I didn't know what it was then. I realise now. And that's about the same amount of time I've wanted to do that too, but I refused to consider it...it was a sub-conscious thing..."

Ginny felt her heart leaping with joy at Hermione's words, and leaned forward to take her hands again. Hermione gave them up reluctantly, almost like she couldn't help herself, and stared at Ginny, who realised with a sudden shock that the older girl was slightly smaller than she was.

Ginny slowly, gently, kissed Hermione again, carefully and only for a second or two. She did it once more, savouring the sensation, and then pulled back and tried to look into Hermione's eyes. "Still think it's weird?" She asked quietly. Hermione shrugged half-heartedly, and Ginny released her. She hoped Hermione didn't always think she was weird; gay wasn't wrong. Look at Dumbledore; Ginny was sure he was _queer_ – she frowned at the word, it wasn't one she liked – and few people didn't respect Albus Dumbledore. She shook herself, bringing the gorgeous girl before her back into focus, and smiled widely.

"I love you." She whispered simply. Then she added, "Come on, we should go...people might miss us."

* * *

Harry saw the girls enter the common room, and hoped they'd made up. They seemed relatively happy; he smiled as he watched them talking. His face fell when Hermione headed over to the dormitory staircase, leaving Ginny behind. Maybe things were still a little tense. He made a mental note to ask one of them tomorrow, and departed for bed, yawning widely. Ron followed; his yawn was just as wide and twice as noisy.

* * *

Ron looked over to where Ginny and Hermione were talking. They looked happy. Ron hadn't noticed any problems and when Harry had mentioned it, Ron had disagreed. He remembered is exact words: _"I think you're imagining things, mate." _He smiled; looked like he had been proved right for once. Wow, how strange.

He yawned hugely and followed Harry up to the dormitory, noting the presence of Seamus and Dean in the common room but a distinct lack of Neville. The dormitory wouldn't be empty, then; some quiet possibly appreciated by the occupier. _I'm more considerate than Hermione gives me credit for,_ he thought to himself. Then he pushed the girl's face away; with Harry and his Ginny problems, that wasn't something to think about right now, however much his heart longed for him to do something about his ever-increasing difficulties.

* * *

Hermione followed Ginny at a respectable distance through the corridors, thinking hard about what Professor McGonagall had said. _Love is never wrong,_ the words whispered to her. Hermione climbed through the portrait hole behind Ginny and tailed her to a quiet section of the circular room.

"What does this mean?" She whispered. "Are we...am I...?"

Ginny smiled a little sadly. "It can mean whatever you want it to mean. I'll wait as long as I have to for an answer, Hermione, so don't rush yourself. The worst thing would be to label yourself, but write the label all wrong..."

Hermione bit her lip, trying to resist the urge to kiss Ginny in front of everyone. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry watching them.

"Okay, well...night." Hermione trudged up the staircase, vanishing from view, and left Ginny smiling a small, private smile of bliss and contentment.

**This wasn't exactly planned, but hey, not much is in my world :) let me know what you think!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: All belongs to the rather amazing J. K. Rowling.**

**Alerts and reviews make me happy :D got none on the last chapter! :'( should i carry on or am i ruining it?**

**Chapter 17**

Hermione peeked out of the girls' dormitory just in time to see red hair whip out of sight; Ginny had just entered her own dorm. She smiled, and walked down the spiral steps, still holding a piece of parchment in her hand.

_Dear Miss Granger, _it read. _I would like to hear your thoughts regarding a new book I have just had delivered; I am sure you will have heard of it. Please come to my office at eight-thirty tonight.  
Sincerely, Professor McGonagall._

Hermione read it through again and bit her lip; an owl had delivered it almost as soon as she had entered her dormitory with thoughts of an early night. She couldn't think what new book this would be and after their earlier chat, Hermione couldn't help but feel awkward at the prospect of spending more time alone with her Head of House.

She sighed and stepped slowly down the stairs, checking to see where Harry and Ron were before picking a circuitous route around the room to avoid them. She didn't want to have to explain.

She arrived at McGonagall's office at just before half-past, and knocked softly on the door. She heard a quiet "come in", and pushed the door open to reveal her Professor sat at her desk. She smiled at Hermione – it was becoming a strangely regular occurrence! – and nodded to a seat, pulling herself into one close by. Hermione could see no books, only parchment; clearly essays being marked.

Her confusion must have shown on her face; Minerva laughed. "I guess you didn't take my little note as anything more than it was." She said enigmatically. Hermione blinked.

"No?" she replied uncertainly, wondering what she had missed as she pulled it out of her pocket.

"Never mind, I left it up to you to guess. Anyway, I admit, I am curious as to what happened between you and Ginevra when she followed you out of the hall. I know first-hand that it really does you good to get it out of your system, and to get a second opinion, on most things..."

Hermione looked on in surprise and abashment. The Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the famous and renowned Transfiguration teacher of great prowess and skill, had asked her, Hermione Granger, to visit her and speak about relationship problems merely to quell a curiosity?

She felt a blush spread across her face – again – and coughed slightly.

"Ginny kissed me." She forced out, ignoring the voice in her brain telling her that this was not a conversation many people had with the usually distant Minerva McGonagall and that she should refuse to reply.

She looked on in surprise as her teacher smiled. "Hermione, that's fantastic!"

"Is it?" Hermione asked miserably; she still hadn't quite worked out her thoughts on this particular subject. She jumped as Minerva took both her hands in her own, paler ones and looked into her eyes.

"Hermione, if this isn't what you want you can just break it off. If it is, then Miss Weasley is a very lucky girl. Either way this should be no different to a normal relationship...there is no reason for it to be any different."

Hermione felt a tear roll down her cheek. "It is different, it is..."

"Why?" Minerva asked. Hermione couldn't find the words to answer, so she carried on. "Tell me truthfully, Hermione, did you enjoy that kiss? Or those kisses?"

Hermione blushed ever harder, but that strange feeling was back in her stomach that made her feel like there was a little fire roaring away contentedly inside her and she couldn't do anything but nod.

"Then give it a go."

* * *

The first week went by in such a rush, Ginny could barely keep up. Her O.W.L lessons were taxing to say the least and she struggled with the workload.

It didn't help that she still wasn't sleeping very well.

* * *

Hermione woke to the sounds of the birds and groped for her clock, hoping she hadn't overslept.

She had! _"Dammit..." _she muttered, pulling the duvet off, and then she noticed the other full beds. She frowned, then relaxed; Saturday. Finally.

Saturday...that rang a bell...?

Oh. Of course. The day she planned to tell Ginny her thoughts, because she knew no time would be any better or any worse, and she hated keeping her waiting.

Hermione sighed. This wasn't going to be easy; her head was still very messed up. She hoped she was doing the right thing, sending up a little prayer to whoever might be listening...if anyone. Sigh.

She got herself up and dressed, and wandered for a while around the castle under the guise of doing prefect duties. She kept slipping her hand into her pocket, feeling the letter in its crisp envelope, and walked almost blindly, her thoughts too loud to let anything else in. She stumbled into a wall that was almost transparent (it sniggered loudly at her), and fell almost immediately down half a flight of stairs after missing the trick step that vanished when you stood on it. Sighing, she picked herself up and brushed off her robes as Professor McGonagall came hurtling out of her classroom.

"Hermione!" she spluttered, and then almost – _almost – _blushed. Hermione smiled; Minerva had used her first name in a public (albeit empty) place! "Did...did you just fall down the stairs?" she asked, looking down at Hermione, who was still brushing and straightening her robes.

"Yes, Professor. I missed the vanishing step." Hermione smiled, slightly embarrassed, and dropped her gaze.

"Hmph. Well. Are you hurt?"

"No, Professor."

"Right, well, erm...how are you?" Minerva asked, looking slightly surprised at her own question.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Fine, thanks...much better."

"Good...excellent. Miss Granger, is that yours?" the stern Transfiguration teacher pointed to a piece of parchment on the bottom stair. Hermione checked her robes pockets, blushed and ran to pick it up.

While she was doing so, McGonagall bent down and retrieved an envelope from the floor with a single sheet of parchment inside. She smiled to herself as Hermione walked quickly back, looking pale.

"Whatever's the matter?"

"There's only one sheet here...I wrote two...I have to find it, no-one can ever read it – except the person it's meant for...I have to find it..."

Hermione stopped and looked desperately up at her Head of House, who smiled and held out the envelope. "Is this it?"

Hermione gasped and reached out a trembling hand for it.

"Am I right in thinking this is for Ginny?" McGonagall asked, and Hermione registered with surprise the use of Ginny's nickname. Usually she got Miss Weasley or at best Ginevra.

"Yes." Hermione whispered. Professor McGonagall smiled sincerely.

"Bless you." She whispered back. "You're all worked out, then?" She added.

Hermione shook her head. When Minerva wanted an explanation, she simply couldn't find the words to tell her; instead she handed over the envelope, now with its second sheet restored within.

Minerva slowly reached out, surprised. "Sure?" she asked.

Hermione didn't know why, but she nodded anyway.

* * *

Ginny woke in a panic, flailing her arms and kicking out, hard, at the Death Eaters in the Hall of Prophecy as the little glass balls smashed around her and the air filled with a silvery mist of ghost-like faces...oh. She blinked confusedly up at the red hangings, and slowly looked around.

The dormitory was empty, and judging by the strong light from the window it was very late. Ginny jumped up and dressed hurriedly, running down the staircase to the common room; it was empty. If the clock was right (which, since Fred and George's departure, it generally was), she had missed breakfast and most people would be down at lunch. Her stomach rumbled and she smiled slightly.

She walked towards the portrait hole, planning a trip to the Owlery after – breakfast? Lunch? Brunch? – to see Boo. She came to breakfast every morning for some pumpkin juice and toast, but so far had brought her nothing.

Half-way across the room, Ginny stopped as the portrait hole swung open and a large crowd of Gryffindors spilt through it. Ginny waited patiently until they had moved before shoving herself out and setting off towards the Great Hall.

* * *

Hermione looked up to see Ginny walking down the aisles towards her. She smiled and patted the bench beside her, and Ginny swung herself onto it, reaching for the sandwiches immediately. Hermione smiled as she piled her plate high.

"Hungry?" she asked sarcastically.

Ginny jerked her head. "Missed breakfast." She managed between mouthfuls.

Hermione sat silently for a while, and then said carefully, "So. I've been thinking – again. My head's still a mess and I can't concentrate on anything, but...well, is there somewhere we can go to talk?"

Ginny swallowed hurriedly, hurting her throat with the large and mainly unchewed lump of bread, and thought quickly. "I'm going up to the Owlery, that's usually empty...will that do?"

Hermione considered for a moment. "Should be okay..."

* * *

In the Owlery, Ginny was stroking Boo gently as the funny owl nibbled her fingers. She remembered, angrily, the scene she had caused on the first day; she remembered the Slytherins jeering loudly and Malfoy's voice carrying over it all – "Is that supposed to be an _owl_? It looks more confused than you do, Weasley."

Hermione was twisting her hands this way and that, and she kept glancing shyly up at Ginny.

"Spit it out already." Ginny reached out her free hand and placed it on Hermione's forearm – a gesture of strength and encouragement.

Hermione took a deep breath. "This is probably going to sound ridiculous to you and if you disagree or whatever, please say so..."

Ginny nodded and waited.

"I can't quite get my head around the idea that you...you kissed me, but...well, I can't really work any of it out, so I thought...I had an idea for a- an _action_ _plan_, if you like."

"And what's that?" Ginny asked, trying to look Hermione in the eyes.

Hermione stared at the ground for a moment and then took another huge breath and looked up, right into Ginny's eyes.

"Trial and Error." She said clearly, and stepped forward without looking away from Ginny's captivating browny-green orbs.

* * *

Ginny responded instantly, trying to wrap her arms around Hermione's waist, but she forgot that she had an owl perched – rather precariously – on her wrist. As Boo screeched indignantly, flapping her wings for balance, Hermione giggled and Ginny wobbled and almost fell with the force of the wing-beats.

The Owlery door opened just as Boo fell silent, and both girls whipped around. Filch stood in the doorway with Mrs. Norris at his feet, and they were both staring – with their scarily similar yellowish eyes – suspiciously between the two girls.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"What are you two doing up here?"

"Sending a letter." Hermione said at the same time that Ginny responded, "Visiting my owl."

Filch looked positively ecstatic. "Which are you doing, then? Can't you get your story straight?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We're doing both." She said firmly, pulling an envelope out of her inside pocket and searching a few others for string.

"Not that it's any of your business." Ginny added, "As the Owlery is a public place and we aren't doing anything wrong."

Filch spluttered something, but Hermione spoke again. "Oh by the way, Peeves was planning to block the keyholes of every single broom cupboard with gum this evening, so I would go and open all the doors now before they become permanently locked."

Filch went very red and spluttered something else, before spining around and marching determinedly away. The grey cat gave them one last glance, looking almost as if she had been cheated out of a meal, before turning and stalking after her master.

Ginny looked at the brunette girl admiringly. "I never knew you were such a good liar, Hermione."

"I wasn't lying." Hermione responded, and both girls burst out laughing.

"You were about the letter, though, surely? Or do you want to borrow Boo?" Ginny asked, wiping laughter tears from her eyes.

"Um, no, I'll just give it to you." Hermione said a little coyly. "It was a...a back-up, in case my courage went. Guess it didn't, but I'll give you it anyway." She shyly handed Ginny an envelope with no address on it. Surprised, Ginny took it and started to slit it open, her heart still singing with joy at Hermione's words and her body still laughing at the run-in with Filch.

She pulled the piece of parchment out of its envelope, absent-mindedly shifting Boo to her shoulder, and unfolded it to reveal a second piece. They were small bits of parchment, but still...

"Wow, Hermione, this is an essay!" she said, smiling and looking up, but Hermione was gone. Ginny looked around, shocked; she hadn't heard the door open. Her heart fell a little, but after one last glance around the circular room and stroking Boo goodbye, she left, tucking Hermione's letter into her pocket.

**So, am I doing ok? Reviews please! The story's running away from me...**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I'm not J. K. Rowling.**

**Sorry it's been a while, i've been busy! it's half term now though so i should get a couple up this week :D**

**Chapter 18**

_Dearest Ginny,_

_You have been, firstly, a best friend, and more recently like a little sister to me, altogether for six years now; I guess your revelation took me by surprise. I was not expecting it, and I am loath to endanger our friendship; however I am finally realising things about myself that I thought part of everyone – perhaps I am wrong. Now I have got my head around the idea that loving another woman is not necessarily wrong, I have delved deeper into my own mind than I thought possible – and deduced nothing solid from the information I have gathered. All I have managed to work out is the depth of my confusion._

_But, Ginny, I am willing to give it a go – for you. Please do not assume it will last forever – it may do, but I still do not know who I am. If you are happier with this than with the friendship that is obviously not enough for you, then I hope I too can be truly happy in time. I can see, in your eyes, that you really do mean what you said. You aren't just a confused young girl with what she thinks is a crush on her friend (like with Harry). I can see you aren't lying, not that you would, and I can tell that if you are mistaken then every single tiny element of you is also mistaken. I can tell you aren't trying to hurt me, but doing so it is hurting you, and I can't bear that._

_Why am I doing this? I don't really know for sure. But our kiss I felt held something more than it should've and I cannot bear to see the hurt in your eyes any more when you look at me and realise you can't come any closer or say what you want to. I feel now that I do love you, Ginny Weasley, but in what way I do not know, so I am doing this for both of us; I hope and pray that I am making the right decision – I couldn't bear to lose you, my dear friend._

_All my love, _

_Hermione_

Ginny read the letter through a few times, tears clouding her gaze; her heart flip-flopped inside her. She went back to one particular bit and fixed the words in her mind, joining them to the memory of the kiss.

_..our kiss I felt held something more than it should've and I cannot bear to see the hurt in your eyes any more... I feel now that I do love you, Ginny Weasley, but in what way I do not know, so I am doing this for both of us; I hope and pray that I am making the right decision – I couldn't bear to lose you, my dear friend._

Ginny re-opened her eyes and smiled a very genuine smile.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall laid aside her quill, having finally finished marking the huge pile of essays before her, and reached up to tuck a stray hair back into her bun. She smiled as the memory of the letter she had read earlier came back to her.

"_Sure?" She checked, remembering how upset Hermione had been when she couldn't find the other half. When the girl nodded, Minerva was surprised; did Hermione trust her that much? Her teacher?_

_Clearly, yes. Hermione had a determined but slightly worried expression on her face, and she was twisting her hands together anxiously._

"_Don't laugh." She heard the girl whisper. Minerva looked at her in surprise. _

"_Come in here, Hermione. Do you really think I would laugh at you? For anything, but especially something as serious as this?" she asked as she ushered the dithering girl into her classroom. She berated herself for thinking of Hermione as a girl; she was more a woman now, in looks and brains._

"_I...no." Hermione answered, looking away._

_Minerva sighed and scanned the letter, using her technique that was best applied to essays; she read all the words, but only took them in afterwards._

_After a longish pause, she whispered, "It's lovely, Hermione." She looked over the top of the letter to see the witch still twisting her hands together, very red, but looking surprised at the tone of voice Minerva had spoken in; quietly sincere. She smiled awkwardly and took the envelope Minerva offered her._

"_I hope you don't regret that, now." _

_Hermione shook her head hurriedly and gulped oddly. "I don't." She whispered. "It's nice to have someone to talk to about these things..."_

_Minerva nodded seriously._

She opened her eyes slowly and placed her fingertips over her throbbing temples. _Young love_, she thought to herself. She smiled at how seemingly formal the letter had been, despite the very personal content – yes, that was just Hermione's style.

Was she showing too much of an interest in Hermione's personal life? Well, she had said herself she liked having someone to talk to...she felt the girl – no, woman – truly trusted her now, with anything. Hm. Funny how some people could get right under your skin, even after being so closed off for such a long time.

* * *

Hermione got up late on Sunday, aware that the Gryffindor Quidditch team trials would already be under way, and decided to go and watch the rest. She hoped she hadn't missed Ginny or Ron.

She walked slowly towards the Great Hall and picked up some toast, which she carried with her towards the doors and the Quidditch pitch beyond. She munched her toast and soon finished it, taking no notice of anything around her. She thought vaguely that she ought to have learned from yesterday's little slips as she rounded a corner and almost collided with a suit of armour, but she still didn't truly wake up until she really collided with her Transfiguration teacher, who dropped the pile of books she was holding.

"Oops – sorry professor -"

"Miss Granger - !"

Minerva waved her wand, catching the books that flew towards her, and then smiled at the stunning brunette before her.

"Penny for your thoughts, Miss Granger?"

Hermione, still beet-red, shrugged.

"Miss Weasley, by any chance?"

Hermione's blush intensified slightly. "How...?"

"How do I know? I have been in love before, Miss Granger, however unlikely that may seem to you." Minerva cursed inwardly. What was she doing? She never, _ever_ talked about her private life – especially not to a student.

Hermione looked up at her, red face fading, and grinned. "I guessed as much. Professor, you're blushing!" Hermione laughed, making McGonagall's flush deepen a little. She smiled tersely.

"Yes, well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't parade that around the school."

"I would never do anything of the sort, Professor." Hermione replied seriously, her smile fading.

"I believe you."

* * *

Ginny searched the common room, the Great Hall and even Hermione's dorm later, after the trials, but she couldn't find the girl anywhere. She cursed silently; she had been in the stands, watching Ron's trial – and McLaggen's ridiculous attempt at catching the Quaffle. _That should have been an easy save_, she thought; but no, she shouldn't complain. Ron was on the team instead, and that had to be good.

Finally Ginny thought to check the library; but no, Hermione wasn't there. She bit her lip, thinking; was Hermione avoiding her? Did she regret her letter? Ginny wandered slowly back to the common room, trying to quell her panicky feelings and push away the hurt that coursed through her, just below the surface of her skin, pounding.

* * *

Hermione jerked awake, pulling herself upright as the portrait hole burst open. She looked around; she must have fallen asleep on the sofa. She thought about her dream and half-smiled, half frowned; she remembered the dream-feeling of running her fingers through Ginny's silky straight hair and the real memory of the feel of her lips on her own. She shook herself, mentally and physically, as Ron came flying towards her.

"Hermione, I did it, I'm in! So's Ginny!" he said happily as Harry stood behind his shoulder, looking faintly amused.

Hermione smiled. "That's excellent Ron, really excellent!"

She looked around as Ron strode around the room, working off his excitement, searching for another red-head. She wasn't there but just as Hermione gave up searching the portrait hole opened once more and she climbed in.

"Congratulations!" Hermione squealed and threw her arms around the taller girl. Ginny relaxed into the embrace, relieved that everything seemed okay between them, and kissed Hermione discreetly on the cheek. Hermione pulled back and gave her a disapproving glance, shaking her head minutely, and then dragged Ginny over to the other two.

"Where's my congratulations?" Ron asked, looking slightly put-out.

Hermione laughed and pulled him into a hug.

* * *

Ginny laughed quietly to herself as McLaggen bounced off the entrance to the Great Hall. She alone had seen Hermione mouth a word, pointing her wand at McLaggen, before leaving; she had been too upset to think about it at the time because Hermione hadn't so much as glanced at her before then. Now of course she realised what the witch had done.

She strode into the hall behind her brother and sat down by Demelza, a new team mate, engaging her in a conversation. She grinned to herself half in amusement and half in worry as Ron exited and then re-entered the hall, Harry and a pink-faced Hermione in tow.

Her smile faded. She could see how Ron felt towards her...girlfriend?...and she could see how that situation looked to Ron, with Hermione's blush and the smile on Harry's face. She made a mental note to ask Hermione later; she looked forward to seeing the older girl blush even more when she told her of her suspicions about Ron's assumption. It looked like Harry had held Hermione back and...well, done exactly what Ginny had done down by the lake, when she thought of it like that.

Poor Ron. This was going to complicate things for everyone - she didn't want to hurt him.

**Okay relatively short, but I hope you liked it :) i'll make up for the length next chapter!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I'm not J. K. Rowling, I'm just borrowing her world :)**

**So, are you all enjoying it? This is a long one :') to make up for the short one last time.**

**Chapter 19**

Ginny slowly opened her eyes, savouring the fact that the weekend wasn't over; it was Sunday. She smiled to herself and jumped up to get dressed.

When she entered the common room she found it mostly empty because of the early hour; Hermione was sat in her favourite homework corner though, with books open around her. The only other occupants were three first-years and a boy from Ginny's own year, whose name still escaped her even after all these years.

She smiled and dragged a chair up beside Hermione, who continued to write to the bottom of a long piece of parchment – Ginny estimated it to be around four feet. Then the older girl slammed her potions textbook closed and looked around, an adorable smile playing around her lips; Ginny realised again just how beautiful Hermione was.

"Morning. Thought we should talk." Ginny said quietly. Hermione nodded and cast a glance around the circular room; the fifth-year had gone and the three little ones were excitedly discussing their first week at the magic school and had brought out a set of gobstones.

"Yeah. Good idea." Hermione nodded again, matching Ginny's low tone.

"So – are we...together?" Ginny tried not to show the excitement this statement instilled in her, but she couldn't help a faint shudder of pleasure. Hermione noticed and smiled, answering with her own little wriggle.

"For now. Like in my letter, Ginny, don't think it's your fault if it doesn't work out..."

Ginny nodded. She knew the dangers, but for her own sanity refused to consider them; this girl was the one she loved, truly loved, longed for when she wasn't there, felt a physical pain for when she was unhappy, and as such she refused to consider a future without her. "Um. Just thought I should let you know – I think Ron thinks there's something between you and Harry."

Hermione blushed. "Why?"

"Yesterday, you Confunded McLaggen and Harry asked you about it right before dinner, yes?"

Hermione looked up. "Um. Don't be mad." She tried, looking a little worried. Ginny laughed.

"I'm not! It's just, when Ron came to find you outside the Great Hall, I think he thought..." Ginny trailed off and Hermione looked at her expectantly. Then, when she caught on, she turned a red to rival Ron's ears when he was angry.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. Ginny grinned a little half-heartedly.

"So...I think he sort of likes you." Ginny squeezed her eyes shut as her heart protested at the next part of her sentence, but she said it anyway. "And I'll understand if you want to give it a go with him, you know."

Hermione looked at her, eyes round and expression shocked. "Ginny! No, don't talk like that. I'm not giving up already...I honestly do think we can be good together. I guess I've just got to get used to the idea that I'm..."

Ginny's heart sang loudly at Hermione's words, drowning out any guilt for hurting her brother – that would come in time, no doubt. But as she looked at the girl next to her, who was officially _hers_ – she grinned widely at the thought and resisted the urge to kiss her right there – she realised what Hermione was afraid of.

"You're fine, aren't you? It's everyone else's reactions you're worried about."

Hermione glanced up, an unreadable expression on her face. Ginny continued. "We can keep it to ourselves for now, Hermione – it'll be tough, but until you get used to the idea. Like I said, the label's got to be right before you attach it..."

* * *

Hermione took a huge breath and knocked on the door, dithering slightly. It creaked open – clearly the room's occupant had been about to leave.

"Miss Granger – I've been expecting you!"

Hermione smiled slightly. "Really, Professor? I didn't know whether I was doing the right thing, but I'd rather this and have a second opinion..."

Minerva smiled to herself, thinking what a wise young woman Hermione was, and gestured her inside.

"You're not busy, are you?" she heard a small voice ask from the doorway.

"Would I be inviting you in if I was?"

Hermione hesitated, and stepped slowly down to the front of the room.

"So. How did Ginevra like the letter?"

Hermione smiled. "She loved it, actually. We talked this morning – she got into the Quidditch team." Hermione remembered the rest of the conversation and felt a wave of guilt.

"Oh yes? Well, we'll have a chance at the Cup this year then." Hermione smiled at the competitive nature of her Head of House. "So...what's the situation?" Minerva couldn't help herself. "Are you two...in a relationship?"

"Quietly, yes." Hermione nodded, surprised at the lack of burning in her cheeks. It felt like it had been almost non-stop over the last week and she felt almost cold without the familiar rush of heat. As she claimed Ginny as her own, she felt a warm tingling all over and smiled a secret, happy smile. She looked up into eyes slightly wet with tears and froze, shocked – what had she said?

"That's wonderful." McGonagall stated simply, blinking to dissipate the liquid; one single teardrop rolled down her face. She quickly wiped it away. "Oops. This is getting ridiculous – my staff never see anything like this, but you, Miss Granger, have seen me blush _and _cry in...two days."

"And I caused both." Hermione said a little mournfully.

"Don't be silly." McGonagall said crisply, regaining her composure. "Of course you didn't. If I wasn't so...well, nosey, I suppose, it would never have happened."

Hermione continued to look up into those eyes that were at once protecting secrets from everybody but also showing them for what they really were and wished she could interpret the sadness behind them. She cleared her throat and called on her Gryffindor courage as she formed a question she had been dying to ask.

"Professor, why are you so interested?"

Minerva froze. "That is...well. Quite confidential, Miss Granger." Hermione dropped her gaze. "Now, was there anything else?" her teacher asked, standing up to signal the end of the meeting. Hermione hurriedly followed suit, realising that she had gone too far.

She walked briskly back to the common room to pick up Ginny for lunch, preparing her "I was in the library researching..." speech. She didn't want to lie, and she would tell her..._girlfriend_... (that was going to take some getting used to) soon; but for now, she thought Ginny would be annoyed at how much Hermione had told the stern Professor.

* * *

Minerva sat at her desk, staring at the clock, thinking hard.

Hermione clearly regarded her highly and had trusted her greatly – enough to speak to her about a very personal issue. Did she owe her an explanation?

Of course not, she argued with herself. Why should she? Miss Granger is a student. Why should she tell her what no living soul bar one knows? Why re-visit ghosts and memories long buried?

_Because it would do you good. Take your own advice._ A voice whispered to her.

But why? She argued back. It was nothing to do with anyone else, especially not a student – no matter how close she was to that student.

_Because she trusts you, and you trust her._ The voice continued to argue, and no matter how much she denied it Minerva knew it was true. She trusted Hermione more than she had trusted anyone for many years.

With this in mind, Minerva pulled some blank parchment towards her and unscrewed an ink-pot.

* * *

Harry looked over to where Ron sat, unusually quiet, and racked his brains. What had he done?

Finally, he got up and wandered over. "Ron? You hungry yet?"

Ron looked up, jaw working. "No." He managed finally. Harry nodded and flung himself down next to his friend. He knew Ron well; he decided to just wait. It would all come out soon.

"Is there anything going on between you and Hermione?" Ron blurted suddenly, and Harry smiled when he realised he'd been right. Then he registered what Ron had said.

"Er, no. What makes you say that?"

"Your faces at dinner yesterday. When you didn't follow me into the hall, I wondered what you were doing..."

"Eew. Ron. I love Hermione, of course I do, but she's like a sister...that's it. Why?"

Ron suddenly looked much happier. "Don't worry about it, mate. Ready for dinner?"

Harry smirked to himself. "Yeah, sure."

* * *

Hermione thought back over a happy afternoon spent with Ginny wandering around the castle, simply enjoying each other's company and talking about anything and everything. She leaned back on her cushions, savouring the quiet (one of the benefits of an early night), and her mind wandered back to the morning...she regretted her question to McGonagall. Of course she had gone too far; she was a teacher, why would she tell Hermione anything? Especially when she was so...well, private. Hermione doubted the staff even knew much about her.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione jumped as an owl tapped on the window. Surprised, she got up and opened it, registering a package and a letter. As soon as she had removed both, the owl ruffled itself and left – clearly the sender didn't want a reply.

Carrying the post over to her bed, Hermione drew the hanging curtains around her so she wouldn't be disturbed; she could hear feet on the stairs. Then she slowly opened the letter, which was sealed with a Gryffindor lion.

As soon as the seal was broken and the script visible, Hermione recognised it as belonging to Minerva McGonagall. She frowned; was she in a lot of trouble for her question earlier? She sat quite still for a moment as the dormitory door opened and footsteps paced softly across the room; she waited as they faded again and the door thudded shut before inhaling deeply and pulling the parchment out.

_Dear Hermione, _she read, surprised at the informal tone.

_I offer my sincerest apologies for my shortness earlier; you broached a topic I hid and buried many years ago. Please forgive my reaction to your question, which you had every right to ask – whether I answered or not._

_I have decided, under the circumstances, that I will in fact answer you; for some reason I trust you over and above many of my acquaintances or students, and perhaps sharing this burden will do me good. However – and I am sure you understand my reasoning – I must ask you to keep this to yourself, not even disclosing it to Mr Potter or any of the Weasleys. If you do not feel you can do this, I must ask you to stop reading now; I am placing a huge amount of trust on your shoulders despite your tender age, which is something I rarely do to anyone._

Here the letter seemed to end and Hermione turned it over, puzzled and pleasantly surprised. The back was blank and she shrugged and laid it aside, reaching for the parcel. It was a very familiar shape – like a thin book.

Hermione untied the string and let the brown paper fall away, revealing a leather-bound book with very thin-looking pages that were almost transparent. She let it fall open on her lap and was faced with a photograph; Hermione looked closer and then froze. She stared, open-mouthed, and then quickly flicked back to the beginning – clearly, this was going to tell her a story.

She was right. In the front of the book, neatly inscribed in black ink, was a short message; _from here on, this is for your eyes only. The captions change._

Hermione re-read the enigmatic message, frowning, but flicked to the first page anyway. The picture was not stuck on the page – it seemed to be part of the page, as if it had been printed into it, but of course it was attached into a book. The photograph showed a girl of around Hermione's age, and the subtitle in blue ink read, _me in my last year at Hogwarts._

Hermione stared at the image; Minerva here had very big greenish eyes, slightly out of proportion to her other features, which emphasised her proud cheekbones. Her thick, wavy raven hair fell down to the small of her back. She was pale and her eyes, rimmed slightly in black, stood out against her skin. She was strikingly pretty, a fact Hermione registered with a little surprise.

Looking back at the caption, Hermione saw a new message – in the same ink the letter had been in, which was black. She noticed that the handwriting was neater and more practiced, and breathed inwards suddenly as she realised what McGonagall must have done – she had charmed her photo album, with its original photographs and little snippets of text, to read differently for her. She wondered if anyone else would be able to see the changes.

Looking back at the flowing black script, she read, _N.E. finished, and I was ready to find a career. I had ambitions and dreams, and I was excited to see more of the world._

Hermione smiled down at the young Professor McGonagall, who smiled back and waved, and turned the page. Here was a picture of the raven-haired witch again, but this time with someone else – a girl who was just as pale, with large blue eyes and long wavy-blonde hair. She looked a bit like Luna, but without the dreamy look; in fact, Hermione realised that apart from eye and hair colour she looked almost identical to Minerva.

The caption read _Marlene and I._ Hermione thought hard; where had she heard the name Marlene?

Hermione blinked and looked back at the subtitle, which was now a lot longer – Hermione skim-read it eagerly. _Marlene and I had been very good friends throughout our schooling. We both came from wizarding families and after we finished school and moved away we kept in close contact. People called us the Twins, despite the obvious differences between us._

Hermione smiled and turned another page. This photo too showed her teacher with someone else – she was shocked to see a very young Dumbledore, with short and wavy auburn hair and a distinct lack of beard, but the same twinkling blue eyes she knew and loved. The caption was very simple, but once it changed it was even longer than the last. _Albus was a few years older than me but we met travelling and we got on very well. I introduced Marlene as soon as I could, and she too seemed to like him. We settled down together in London, each planning our own futures; the three of us lived together for a time and I found that I loved Albus Dumbledore more than I had ever loved anyone before, despite the relatively large age gap. I knew it was there, but it wasn't huge; I thought we could easily bridge that gap, and indeed it had most definitely been done before._

Hermione sighed. Looks like Ginny was right – about McGonagall at any rate. She smiled at her girlfriend's perception and read on, this time focussing on a page containing a photograph of the two young ladies stood opposite each other, leaning inwards and clearly shouting at each other; it was directly below one of Minerva trying to take Albus' hand.

_Marlene took the top picture. The second was only a few moments afterwards – _looking closer Hermione noticed the same clothes – _but taken by Albus. In the first one I thought Albus felt the same way I did – I knew then that I loved him, and I wanted him to know it. I didn't consider the age gap, I just reached out to take his hand, and Marlene took the picture – I didn't know she was there. Then she pulled me off the sofa and yelled and yelled. I didn't know what I'd done, and we both cried and shouted; I had guessed she too liked Albus (after all he was a popular man) and this was the impression that stayed with me for a few weeks._

Hermione frowned; she thought she could already see where this was going.

The next page showed Minerva and Marlene sat cross-legged on a single bed, an intense emotion fixing Marlene's features into a frown. The caption read, _Albus caught us talking. It was a rare occurrence – we usually either shouted at or blanked each other. I don't know why he felt the need to document it but I am glad he did. I was caught between a love so strong I didn't know what to do with it and a fear, a guilt, that I was hurting and betraying my closest friend._

Again Hermione turned the page and saw an almost identical picture to the previous, except instead it was Minerva frowning – and Marlene was reaching out for her hand, leaning forwards.

_We were unaware of Albus,_ Minerva had written, her writing becoming worse as she had obviously sped up. _And there Marlene told me that it wasn't what I thought – I had every right to love Albus, she had no claim to him. It was me she loved._

Hermione took a shaky breath out. Now she understood part of why her Transfiguration Professor seemed so interested in her private life...

* * *

Minerva sat in her office, wondering why she had sent that owl. What was she doing telling a student about something that had happened years ago and that nobody apart from her and Dumbledore knew about?

She stood up slowly to make some tea, only able to hope that the owl hadn't yet arrived and would somehow come flying back. Deep inside though, some other sense was telling her that Hermione – Miss Granger, she corrected herself – had already received the album. She jumped as someone knocked on the door and patted her hair back into place, trying to make herself look presentable.

"Come in." She called, pleased to hear her voice ring out strong and true.

Dumbledore poked his head around the door. "Got a minute, Minerva?" he asked, eyeing the teapot.

Ignoring the simultaneous sinking of her heart and its increased beating speed, Minerva stayed as professional as she could manage. "Of course, Headmaster." She said with dignity, carrying the tray over to the desk. "What can I do for you?"

Dumbledore took a seat opposite her and regarded her with amusement over his interlinked fingers. "Since when do you call me Headmaster when there aren't any students around?" he asked, smiling.

Minerva frowned and almost snapped, but held herself together.

Seeing her expression, Dumbledore reached out a hand to her. "What has happened, Minerva?"

She jerked her hand away from him and breathed deeply. "Nothing I can't manage myself, Albus. Now what did you want to speak to me about?"

"I...it doesn't matter. It's nothing I can't manage myself." He quoted her, still looking concerned and trying to catch her eye. "I'll be away from the castle for a few days; I'm trusting you to keep the school together for me."

Focussing on the table, Minerva nodded. "Be careful." She whispered, looking at his black and withered-looking hand.

"I always am, Minerva." He responded gravely. He stood up, turned and strode to the door. "_For you._" He added in Mermish, a harsh, guttural sound that didn't seem to fit the words it was delivering. Minerva looked up in surprise, but Albus had gone – he left a splash of silver behind him. Minerva smiled and reached out for the creature, which flew over and spoke quietly to her.

"I know your feelings haven't much changed, Minerva, and I know something has brought them back to the surface. Don't make me feel any more guilty, and don't let this get in the way of work. I can't help who I am, and neither can you – so let's put this behind us as much as we can."

Dumbledore's voice echoed quietly throughout the stone room and as it finished the silver phoenix dissolved, leaving Minerva sat with her head in her hands.

* * *

Hermione took another wobbly breath and flicked to the next page. It was of Minerva jerking her hand back and jumping up all at once, leaving a hurt and confused-looking Marlene frozen on the bed. The subtitle was quite a long one.

_Albus looked after me while I cried and shouted. He heard everything, not that he meant to, but even then he couldn't work out what my problem was. I told him it was strange, abnormal, to feel something beyond friendship for someone of the same gender; sometimes I still cannot believe my close-mindedness, but that is the opinion I grew up with. My family aren't bad people, but being pure-blood they hold with none of this._

_After Albus worked out what I was trying to say, he tried to talk me round. "Why?" He kept asking, and I couldn't give him a good enough answer. The next morning I packed my bags and left, leaving a note behind._

Saddened, Hermione paused with her fingers wrapped around the corner of the page. Mind made up, she closed the book and slipped it under her pillow, planning to continue it in the morning.

**Well I hope this clears up a few things :) I love making up past lives and things for characters! Any guesses on who Marlene is?**


	20. Chapter 20

**Sorry I've been away so long guys, I am disgusted at myself! Please forgive me!**

**Disclaimer: I'm not J. K. Rowling. Shame :D**

**So, are you all enjoying it? I have tried to tie this in a little with Dumbledore's early life as explained in book seven, but obviously Hermione doesn't know anything about that as this is only book six. So hopefully it fits. **

**Chapter 20**

Ginny opened her eyes from an enjoyable dream involving Hermione, herself and a very large clear lake. She stretched slowly, wishing the weather at school was as nice as it had been then. She turned off her alarm clock, snuggling back down, eager to re-enter her dream and forgetting it was a Monday...

"Ginny? Get up. Yours is the last alarm."

Ginny groaned.

* * *

Hermione woke up early, reaching for the book almost before she was fully conscious. Her hangings were still drawn around her and it was dark inside them; she lit her wand to aid her reading.

Finding the last page she had looked at, Hermione looked again at the picture, scanning the subtitle. Minerva repeatedly jumped away from the bed and Marlene's hurt expression only seemed to intensify each time Hermione saw it; she wrenched the page over quickly, trying to steady her breathing.

The next page did not contain a photograph; instead, a letter was ingrained into the page. Minerva's younger handwriting covered it and Hermione read quickly.

_Marlene and Albus,_

_I am sorry to leave you but I cannot stay here. My opinions have been forced into me since the day I was born, almost twenty years ago – if I can change them, it is going to take a long time. For now I will let you build on the friendship you have and I will satisfy myself with writing to you both, if you are not planning on completely excluding me from your lives. I apologise for my actions, as I know they are wrong, but I can no more justify yours than my own so I suspect we are condemned to a life apart._

_Your friend, Marlene_

_And ever my love to you, Albus_

_Minerva_

Hermione's eyes filled with tears both at the sadness and confusion behind the words but also with rage; the Minerva McGonagall she knew now would never have written such a thing. It sounded nasty, no matter how hard the writer was clearly trying to patch things up; Hermione wondered what could have happened to change Minerva McGonagall into who she is now, and if she was going to find out.

On the next page was another letter and some captions hurriedly written by the Professor, in different ink and handwriting. Hermione hurriedly skimmed the letter; it was from Marlene and Albus, and was warm and friendly. It invited her back if she ever changed her mind, and encouraged continued correspondence. Hermione was shocked that they could still be so friendly. The captions read:_ I wrote my letter to them with anger in my mind but love in my heart, and I wished my beliefs weren't so closely attached to my personality. Their reply encouraged me to sever those ties to my stereotypical nature, but hard as I tried they were as much a part of me as my heart or my mind or my soul._

Now Hermione was crying, recognising her own emotions in the young Minerva but intensified. She realised that Minerva had been brought up to believe how wrong it was, whereas Hermione's misconceptions were simply products of her confusion. She was amazed at how such a troubled young girl had grown into the openminded, unjudgemental woman she now knew.

Hermione continued to read on through the book, seeing images of Minerva's travels and thoughts, which were never far from her two friends. Finally, she reached a photo of what could only be Minerva's immediate family; they all looked quite similar, with the same black hair and skin tone and a few that shared the high cheekbones or almond-shaped eyes or straight nose of Minerva herself. They all seemed to have green eyes, of varying shades, and Hermione read the caption with shock; she could almost hear the bitterness in the Head of Gryffindor's voice. _Pure bloods the lot of them, and proud of it. Does that make them any better than the Slytherins?_

Hermione sat for a second, the book open on her lap and her mouth also slightly open. Finally she snapped it shut and continued to read. The next photo showed a grainy image of a young girl deep in thought; Hermione's idea was confirmed by the subtitle, which read, _this is a memory rather than a photograph. Being back with my family made me realise how different they were to the people at Hogwarts who I had both befriended and fallen in and out of love with, not to mention Albus and the even more intense emotion I felt for him._

This image shows McGonagall how she remembers herself, Hermione realised. She sighed; the image showed the girl looking as confused as ever she had before.

* * *

Minerva woke early and stared at the stone ceiling, still mentally kicking herself for sending her album off. What had she been thinking?

Suddenly she remembered that she was in charge for a while, who knew how long, and she jumped up hurriedly. Remembering the day, she groaned – she had the sixth-years last, and that meant Hermione.

_She's Miss Granger!_ She mentally shouted at herself, growing and throwing a hair clip angrily across her chamber. Berating herself, she summoned it back and pulled herself out of bed.

* * *

Ginny slipped out of the dormitory before all the others despite her late rising and looked around the common room hopefully, but Hermione wasn't there. She tried to ignore the sinking of her heart as she sat herself down in a seat by the fire and opened her bag, preparing for her more difficult lessons; OWL year was surprisingly difficult.

* * *

Hermione continued to read, finding more letters and photographs than she thought the little book would hold. Most were pleasantries and sentimental visits to places, but finally Hermione found one with a little more meaning.

It was a letter, written in Dumbledore's familiar italic script. It told of the changes of address for himself and Marlene, and Hermione was surprised to find that Dumbledore was back at Hogwarts learning to teach and learned that Marlene had "moved to an address which I am not able to disclose". The subtitle showed Minerva's thoughts.

_I thought Marlene was running away; I thought she was avoiding me. Now I know the place she was staying in was protected and Albus wasn't Secret Keeper, but that didn't help me at the time. Weeks later Albus was quiet and reserved compared to normal and when pressed he revealed nothing – only that he had lost a lot. I chose to believe him and, needing to see him, fed my family part of the truth; I told them about Marlene, and I told them I had to make it right between us. I admit that was part of my intention, but only part. I showed th__em this picture._

The photograph was black and white, and unusually for a wizarding picture was stationary. Marlene, her loose blonde hair whipping around her in a light breeze, had her head propped on her hand; she seemed to be lying on her side on a beach. Hermione could see the surf behindher and what might have been a bird wheeling overhead. The picture was stunning, expertly captured but clearly not edited, and Marlene - who looked to be in perhaps early twenties - looked absolutely beautiful in casual shorts, a strappy top and with a simple necklace hanging to her collarbone. It was at a strange angle due to her position.

Taking a last awed look at the photograph Hermione forced her eyes to the caption below.

_Looking back I should have seen the dangers of telling my family foolishly, naïvely, I did not. When my parents refused to let me go, I went anyway and after apparating to Hogsmeade and owling Albus to be let into the school, I began to question my parent's behaviour. They had met Marlene before and liked her, even respected her because of the family she came from, and yet now they suddenly wanted nothing to do with her? It didn't seem right._

The next page showed Minerva sat in her own office, except that it clearly belonged at this point to Dumbledore. It had the same grainy quality as all the memory-images had, and Hermione noticed the expression on Dumbledore's face; he looked lost.

The subtitle read, _here I was telling Dumbledore that my feelings for him never went away. He wouldn't accept that; he told me to talk things over with Marlene, he told me that would yield better results for all of us. I got angry that he wouldn't listen, and he shouted back; he told me he had lost as good as his whole family, and he seemed both bereft and guilty. I cried for him, but I told him that didn't change what we could have; but then he destroyed what was - at the time - my world. He told me he'd fallen in love while I had been away; and he told me his feelings weren't going to change, because the one he loved was a very bad person - and if that couldn't dissuade him then I wasn't going to. _

_So then I cried for me too._

The next picture showed the young Minerva with tearstained cheeks and swollen red eyes. There was no subtitle and Hermione skipped past it quickly.

The next page had another letter on it. _I never sent this, but it was for Marlene._

_Marlene, _the letter went, _I'm sorry for what I said. I know now that it's not wrong; it just took me by surprise. As you said at the time, you can't control who you fall in love with – but there, that is exactly the problem. I forgive you, for want of a better word, and I hope you can show me the same courtesy, but we can only ever be friends; my heart is meant to be taken by someone else, but he won't have it. I don't believe I can be with anyone without wishing it was him._

Hermione wiped a few stray tears off her cheeks.

On the next page was a note from the present-day McGonagall.

_Hermione,_

_I hope now you understand why I am trying to help you. At the time this happened I thought – and still think – that Albus is the only one for me, but perhaps had I tried to contact Marlene again (which I didn't after I found I couldn't be with Albus) things could have been different. Perhaps we could have been happy._

_Either way I lost my family when I disobeyed my parents. They wanted nothing more to do with me, and I have not heard from them since. They may well think I am in a relationship with Marlene, and for that reason disowned me, but they would be wrong. She died in the first war with Lord Voldemort, fighting alongside Dumbledore, and maybe that is why I too fight so hard. I never got to make things right with her before her untimely death and with that I will be eternally troubled._

_Minerva._

Hermione registered with surprise the use of her teacher's first name at the bottom of the page, but her main emotion was sadness. She also now remembered where she had heard the name before – Marlene McKinnon, from the original Order of the Phoenix. She had been killed, along with the rest of her family, by Death Eaters.

Hermione tucked the book into her school bag, hearing Lavender's shrill alarm cut through the oppressive silence, and began to get ready for a new school day full of melancholy.

* * *

Ginny looked up and smiled as Hermione jumped the last two stairs into the common room and then into Ginny's waiting arms.

"I've been waiting for you." She whispered, glancing around. Only three first-years were there and they were looking the other way, into the dancing flames; she took the opportunity to kiss Hermione gently. Hermione relaxed a little, but pulled away quickly.

"Where've you been?" Ginny asked.

Hermione hated to lie, so she simply didn't tell the whole truth. "I was...erm, reading a story. It was sad and I got really into it." She smiled a little.

"Well, let's go eat. The others already went." Ginny told her, taking her hand. Hermione smiled, and they walked together down to the Great Hall.

* * *

Minerva studied the Gryffindor table curiously; Mr Weasley and Mr Potter were alone. She saw Harry look up at the empty golden chair next to her, and say something to his neighbour; then Ron too looked up at the staff table and then around the hall, as if he expected Dumbledore to appear from a dark corner. Minerva bit back a smile at the thought and looked towards the doors to see Hermione and Ginny enter, a little too much space between them to be natural. She smiled properly this time, planning to tell Hermione not to try so hard to deny it because this would arouse more suspicion, and then suddenly turned serious when she remembered the book she had sent last night.

**I should manage a pretty wquick update this time :) please let me know what you think!**


	21. Chapter 21

**It's been even longer than last time...I'm so sorry! Been so much drama! **

**I hope the info this and last chapter clear up some questions :)**

**Disclaimer: I couldn't ever afford to buy HP world :( So yeah, I don't own it...**

**Chapter 21**

Hermione's day whizzed by and she found herself sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall at lunchtime, being shaken awake by Ron.

"Two more lessons, Hermione, that's all..."

She blinked her eyes open and sat up, looking down at her barely-touched food and back at Ron. Opposite her, Harry watched her with concern.

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

Hermione felt herself automatically nodding as Ginny slid into the seat next to her. "I was up late last night... I was – reading a sad story. I couldn't put it down..." She trailed off. She felt Ginny's had slip into hers under the table and smiled gratefully over at the red-headed girl.

Hermione didn't eat any more; she wasn't hungry. She pulled herself up and dragged her feet towards Herbology, wrapping her cloak more tightly around her against the chill breeze. _Only the second week back and already icily cold,_ she thought to herself.

The lesson was messy and tiring; the sixth-years had to avoid the now-teething Venomous Tentacular while dealing with the violent and dirty Snargaluff stumps. Hermione was extremely relieved when, tired, sweaty, flushed and dirty, Proffessor Sprout called out that the lesson was over, until she remembered what was next – Transfiguration. _Damn._

* * *

Ginny worried as she left the table at lunch time. She had Quidditch practice later, which meant she wouldn't be able to talk to Hermione about what was troubling her; it would have to wait until either dinner or the late evening. She hoped the girl wouldn't push her away; she wanted to help.

* * *

Hermione dragged her feet through the castle to the fourth floor and her final lesson, attracting some confused glances not only from other students but also the many and varied paintings on the walls, because she was (unusually) running late.

It wasn't that she regretted reading the book or anything, she thought; she was pleased and rather flattered that the formidable woman trusted her enough to share her past, especially as she was a mee student. She just knew it would make things a little awkward. She would have appreciated some time away from her teacher until she truly got her head around everything she now knew.

Hermione was last into the classroom, almost five minutes late, and as she entered she heard some surprised murmurs. She rolled her eyes inwardly as she strode to her seat at the front and sat down, enjoying the feeling of her robes billowing around her feet like Minerva's always did. The room fell silent and after a pause, Hermione heard Professor McGonagall's voice; she kept her gaze down. "See me at the end please, Miss Granger."

Hermione didn't move from her desk at the end of the lesson; she didn't pack up or stand up at all. She sat still, focussed on the woodwork and one particularly intricate knot.

As the door banged closed behind the last students, probably Harry and Ron, Hermione looked up. McGonagall was sat behind her desk, regarding her with...apprehension? Worry? Hermione stared back, looking deep into the normally blank and expressionless olive eyes.

"Did you receive my owl, Miss Granger?" Minerva finally asked crisply, and Hermione noticed that the greeny emotions had always been there; not as pronounced, but still there. She just hadn't looked in the right place.

"Yes, Professor." Hermione thought she saw a flash of regret and quickly continued to talk, while reaching down into her bag to pull the book out. "Thank you so much for trusting me, it means a lot to me, and I appreciate the time it must have taken to put this together. I really enjoyed reading it and learning more about you, although it was a very sad story..." Hermione petered out, wondering if the face in front of her was encouraging her to continue or stop.

"As I said, I trust you more than most. Goodness knows why." She added almost to herself. She caught herself and smiled ruefully. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that so bluntly."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't apologise, please, Professor; I know exactly what you mean." Hermione flicked to the back of the book and re-read the end passage.

_I hope now you understand why I am trying to help you. At the time this happened I thought – and still think – that Albus is the only one for me, but perhaps had I tried to contact Marlene again (which I didn't after I found I couldn't be with Albus) things could have been different. Perhaps we could have been happy._

_Either way I lost my family when I disobeyed my parents. They wanted nothing more to do with me, and I have not heard from them since. They may well think I am in a relationship with Marlene, and for that reason disowned me, but they would be wrong. She died in the first war with Lord Voldemort, fighting alongside Dumbledore, and maybe that is why I too fight so hard. I never got to make things right with her before her untimely death and with that I will be eternally troubled._

She looked up into those troubled eyes and felt her own fill with tears. She pulled herself out of her chair and walked over to stand directly in front of her teacher, so she was facing her squarely.

"I can't tell you it's all going to go away, or that it will all get better, and after these years I think you already know that. I wish I could." Hermione whispered.

A tear rolled slowly down Minerva's cheek, closely followed by a second; Hermione looked away, feeling more than a little awkward.

"I know it won't." Minerva muttered harshly. "Her death was untimely even without the...complicated circumstances. And Albus..." Here the tears flowed even faster and Hermione looked back up to where her teacher was mopping her face.

"He's still in love." Hermione whispered. Minerva glanced at her and then looked just as quickly away, fresh tears seeping from under her square spectacles. Hermione took two paces forwards, closing the gap between them, and on initiative reached out to brush the tears away. Minerva flinched.

"You don't have to talk about it, but I think it'll help. A little." Hermione barely moved her lips and she was close enough to count the eyelashes and the tears clinging to them. Minerva took a huge shuddering breath.

"Not now, it's dinner time. Maybe some other time..."

Hermione nodded and suddenly stepped backwards, realising again how close she was to her teacher and desperately fighting the inevitable blush which sprinkled her cheeks. She picked up her bag and swung it onto her back, throwing one last glance over her shoulder at the usually more-than-composed Head of Gryffindor who was staring through a haze of tears at the book Hermione had placed in her right hand and with her left was worrying a fine gold chain around her neck.

**Quite short, but it seemed like a good place to stop! Please review, I'll try to hurry the next update along! :/**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: anything you recognise from the books belongs to J. K. :(**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 22**

Ron watched Hermione with some concern over dinner. She picked at her food, barely eating, and she looked both worried and deep in thought. He longed to reach out and hug her, to smooth out the adorable crease between her eyebrows, look her straight in the warm brownish eyes and ask her what was going on...he rolled his own eyes inwardly. Since when was he so soft? Anyway Hermione wouldn't tell him anything much. She was closer to Harry and Ginny than she was to him.

That thought irked him more than he liked to admit.

* * *

Weeks had flown past, Harry thought to himself. Katie Bell's attack had left him shaken, more so than he dared let on to any of his friends, simply because it was so badly planned; clearly the perpetrator didn't care how much damage they caused. Harry was still convinced that it was Malfoy, and he was more than annoyed with McGonagall for not taking him seriously.

Thinking of the Hogsmeade trip when Katie was cursed, Harry remembered the run-in with Mungdungus and let out a stream of profanities under his breath, earning him a dark look from Ginny, as he realised all over again that Sirius' stuff – _his_ stuff – was being sold on without permission.

* * *

Hermione picked at her food as much as her thoughts over dinner. It was a week since Katie had been injured and there was no news of her improving or even deteriorating – there just hadn't been any news at all, and the nightmares still scared Hermione nightly with the flashes of eerie green light and chilling screams. It was five weeks since the first Slug Club dinner, which had been awkward at best with Ginny so close to her and yet no way of showing their affection; it was also five weeks since the disastrous visit to Hagrid's, and the news that Aragog was dying; and it was five weeks since Minerva McGonagall had spoken to Hermione on anything more than a teacher/student level. Hermione shook her head; that shouldn't bother her so much, but since she had read the photo album she felt a deeper connection to her teacher than she thought she ever could.

Hermione laid down her fork with a sigh. "I'm gonna get an early night." She announced, avoiding her girlfriend's concerned glance. Harry and Ron looked blankly at her.

"Now?" Ron asked. "Hermione it's Monday, you've had all weekend to recuperate – and it's only six p.m."

"And?" Hermione snapped. "You'll not miss me anyway, you'll be out on the pitch." She jumped up, grabbed her bag, and left the hall, unaware of a concerned pair of olive eyes watching her from the staff table from beside the again-vacant golden seat.

* * *

Ginny watched Hermione leave with a heavy heart, but she knew following her would do no good. Her girlfriend still didn't want to go public and the friction this caused was getting to them both; the relationship was going very well, but only if Ginny didn't talk about telling people. As that had happened last night she figured the girl would appreciate a little space.

Ginny remembered with a tiny smile the events of Saturday – 'duelling practice' in the Room of Requirement, which had in fact been some alone time.

_Hermione nestled closer into Ginny's side on the soft leather of the sofa, which the Room had thoughtfully provided. _

"_Comfy?" Ginny asked into her girlfriend's hair, smirking as she felt the older girl shudder at the feel of her warm breath whispering across the pale skin of her cheek._

"_Yes. Very."_

"_Good."_

"_How're you coping with O.?" Hermione tried t change the subject._

_Ginny groaned. "Do we have to talk about schoolwork?" she mumbled._

_Hermione grinned impishly as she shifted to look at Ginny's pleading face. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?"_

"_Us." Ginny stated simply. Hermione quirked an __eyebrow, causing the fiery redhead to elaborate. "Well, are you happy?"_

_Hermione looked disbelievingly at Ginny. "Do I look unhappy, Gin?"_

"_No-o, but..." she never finished. Sweet, __soft lips stopped hers and her mind went blissfully blank, the thought never managing to fully form._

Ginny smiled and nodded to herself. Hermione would be okay, and if she wasn't Ginny would help her with whatever the problem was - once she was happy again with the redhead's promise not to ask her about telling people.

* * *

Hermione wandered the castle after dropping her bag off in the dormitory, knowing full-well that she had never meant to get an early night. She found herself wishing for surety. She still didn't know if she was doing the right thing with Ginny; she loved her, of course, and kissing her felt right in the heat of the moment, but when she thought about it away from her girlfriend, it still seemed...weird. She wished she knew who she was.

_Ginny acts like it's all okay, but she wants people to know. She wants me to be sure and she wants us to never be apart._

Hermione sighed, chewing her lip. Looking around her to find out where her wandering feet had deposited her and then glancing down at her watch she judged the time well past dinner and directed her feet (which she was now in control of) towards the fourth floor.

Knocking on the familiar door, Hermione heard a weary "hello" and pushed it open, her heart suddenly beating tenfold and her palms sticky. Popping her head around the door, she spoke quietly.

"Can I come in, Professor?"

McGonagall looked both annoyed and pleased as she beckoned Hermione forwards. She was stood up, leaning her elbows on the stone windowsill, looking out over the twilit grounds and lake. Hermione noticed again that she was worrying her necklace – she had barely stopped since Hermione had returned her album five weeks ago.

"Can I help you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione scrutinised the face before her, gathering her courage and focussing on the symbol of golden lion she had become so attached to. Then she answered her teacher softly.

"Why are you avoiding me? You've barely spoken a word to me in weeks."

McGonagall looked up quickly before dropping her gaze. "I...have." she said quietly.

"I know you have." Hermione cut across her impatiently. "You've asked me questions in lessons when the others don't know the answers. You've acknowledged me in the corridors, just like you normally do. But you've not truly spoken to me, you're distant."

Minerva looked up again, and Hermione recognised the steely glint in her eye that blocked out all other emotions, as if she has erected a ten-foot-thick wall between her emotions and her actions. "Miss Granger, it is none of your business why I have withdrawn from the more personal relationship we acquired, although a woman as intelligent as yourself should be able to work it out quite easily."

Hermione nodded. "I know. I know you're a teacher, and I'm a student, so it's a bit strange how friendly we were. I know you don't naturally open up to people, which doesn't help either. I know that you buried these things years ago – but you can't run away from your past. If you run away it becomes your present, and either way it shapes your future."

McGonagall glanced up in surprise at the last few words – they sounded too wise to come from such a young person. Then she gritted her teeth.

"Miss Granger, I don't want to talk about it. That should be enough of a reason for you to leave me alone."

Hermione stepped closer, feeling rather than seeing her teacher tense up. "You don't have to talk about it, but you can't run away from this." She reached out, but Minerva batted her away angrily.

"Minerva." Hermione said quietly but forcefully, using her first name aloud for the first time and causing her to freeze, shocked. "You can't run away from this." She pulled the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry into a tight hug and clung on, ignoring the way her teacher fought and the way her own thoughts were screaming at her in panic.

"Get off me Hermione!"

"I'm not letting you go." Hermione said quietly and calmly. "I'm not letting you go. I'm not letting you go..."

She felt Minerva relax slightly, or at least stop fighting, and then her arms slowly crept around her and she sobbed into her shoulder. Hermione held her tight, rubbing the small of her back, and kept repeating her mantra over and over.

"I'm not letting you go..."

* * *

FOUR WEEKS LATER

Harry remembered the day, about four weeks ago now, that Ron had finally admitted in a roundabout way in Herbology that he really did like Hermione. He remembered Hermione's reaction – poorly-covered panic and a lot of awkwardness, juggling with a Snargaluff pod and promptly breaking a dish. He still wondered at that, particularly combined with her early night the following evening; she either didn't like or wasn't sure about Ron and she was clearly struggling.

Ron's reaction was one of anger, which Harry had patiently tried to reduce – he supposed he owed it to him after his own episode with Ginny over the summer. Harry studied Ron grimly for a second, remembering how hard it had been to keep his impatience hidden – but the Ron from then was almost easier to bear than the touchy, jumpy Ron he had to put up with now. The Quidditch match was drawing ever closer and Ron was more than a little panicky, very defensive, and depressed.

* * *

In a brief period between lessons where there (thankfully) were no jeering Slytherins and (luckily) a lack of stomach content to empty into another toilet, Ron thought again not of the Quidditch match but of Hermione. She was avoiding him, preferring to hang with Ginny – he was disappointed that she seemed to need the space. He wanted nothing more than to spend time with her and find out how she felt about him. He knew he displayed his disappointment through anger and always got annoyed with himself when he upset her – but he couldn't seem to help it.

Suddenly, as the realisation that the final Quidditch practice before the match was tonight, he had a brainwave. How better to find out what Hermione felt than to see someone else? And who was always watching their Quidditch practices for no apparent reason? He crossed his fingers and hoped that that reason was in fact him as he laid a plan for the after-match party tomorrow.

* * *

Harry walked inside, muddy and dejected, with Ron tailing him. _That had to be the worst practice ever, including when Wood was captain._ Harry thought.

"I quit." He heard his friend say quietly.

"For the last time, Ron, NO." Harry said wearily.

"Why? I'm useless. I can't do it; I'll let the team – the house – down."

Harry let his annoyance fill him. He had tried being reasonable, comforting...it hadn't worked. Now it was time to try angry. "Ron, you aren't a bad player, so stop being so self-centred and self-pitying and think of the team for once! You're playing tomorrow and nothing you say will change that! You will play, and you will do it for the team – you will not quit, because that's for yourself." he heard his voice echo satisfyingly around the entrance hall and he hurriedly waved his wand, siphoning away the dirt he saw they had left, hoping the shouting wouldn't attract Filch. He looked up to see Ron, very red, staring down at him. As Harry looked up he marched away without another word, his Firebolt over his shoulder.

Harry sighed and shouldered his own Firebolt, setting off towards a shorter route to the common room. He pushed the tapestry aside, revealing the short-cut corridor, and began to walk down it, deep in thoughts about the match tomorrow. _That had to be the worst practice ever, _he thought again. As he rounded the corner, he stopped dead in surprise; Ginny and Dean were in a passionate embrace before him, and Dean looked as if he was hungry enough to eat Ginny's face. He was certainly having a pretty good attempt.

Harry stood for a second, shocked, and then cleared his throat. As Dean broke off and looked around Ginny squirmed out of his grip and pressed herself against the opposite wall, panting and throwing daggers at Dean.

"Dean?" Harry asked, something within him growling angrily and calling for Dean's immediate dismissal from the team. The boy shrugged, looking at Ginny. Ginny stared at Harry, and his heart melted; she looked young and vulnerable.

"Are you two..." Harry didn't finish his question. Ginny was already shaking her head, looking scared.

"Well she's single, it's not a crime." Dean said easily.

"It is if she didn't want you to do it." Harry snapped at the same time Ginny retorted "I'm not single you idiot."

Dean did a rather accurate impression of a goldfish, goggling at Ginny, before turning on his heel and striding away. Harry resisted the urge to hex him and shouted, "Play well tomorrow, Dean. And lay off Ginny."

* * *

Hermione sat at the dinner table, lost in thoughts about that afternoon four weeks ago when Minerva had sobbed into her shoulder and the note she had received afterwards.

_Thank you, Hermione. I am embarrassed (to say the least) about the scene earlier, but surprisingly I do actually feel better. When I feel more able to talk about it I will owl you._

Hermione wondered briefly, as she had every day since, if that day would be today, before she snapped awake as the boys got up to go back to the common room. She followed them silently, hoping Ginny would be there. She needed to speak with her.

Climbing through the portrait of the Fat Lady, whose friend Violet was giggling beside her as she recounted a story of pupils' antics from years ago, Hermione looked carefully around. Ginny wasn't there but with it being a Friday night the common room was full and noisy – the game started at eleven the next day and the spirits were even higher than usual. Navigating around the clumps of people sporting various Gryffindor merchandise in preparation for the game (including plenty trying to sell some), Hermione made her way up the girls staircase.

Harry watched her go with a snake of cold worry undulating in his stomach. Hermione hadn't been herself recently.

* * *

Ginny looked up, startled, as the door creaked open and Hermione's bushy brown hair preceded her through it. She smiled a warm, genuine smile while her girlfriend looked around, noting the emptiness and returning the grin a little half-heartedly.

"What are you doing up here?"

"Homework." Ginny replied easily. "It's way too loud down there. But I'm done now, so perhaps some time to ourselves?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Go ahead." Ginny smiled.

Hermione took as big a breath as she could and expelled it slowly, pushing it between pursed lips. She threw herself down onto the bed and examined the ceiling for a moment, then looked directly into Ginny's eyes.

"It still feels weird, Gin. It's...fine while I'm with you. But after, when I think about it, it's not right."

Ginny blinked. "It takes some getting used to..."

"Two months, though? Two whole months?" Hermione asked miserably, and then suddenly opened her eyes wide. "Hang on, wait. You know it takes some getting used to?"

"Of course I do. And yes, or more." Ginny replied succinctly, mentally facepalming _hard_.

"Who...?"

Ginny closed her eyes tight. "Luna. Only once, Hermione, and I don't think she realised at the time that it wasn't the normal thing friends do – you know she doesn't really have friends. Anyway that was years ago..."

Hermione stared at her. "Luna." She finally managed, shocked.

"It was more an experiment, really, horrid though that sounds – but I've never loved anyone like I love you. Or ever will, Hermione."

"Luna." The older girl repeated in wonderment, and then shrugged. "Fair enough. But, I haven't had that chance to work it out, Ginny. And I need that."

"I'll wait; we've got time...as much as you need."

"No, Ginny. I need some time _alone_...a few weeks, tops. A few weeks apart..."

Ginny blinked, hearing her blood rushing and pounding and roaring in her ears. "Are you...breaking up with me?" she asked quietly, dazed. Hermione's face dropped, and she looked broken. Her whisper barely reached Ginny's ears.

"I guess so...for now, or forever, I don't know."

And both girls, particularly Ginny, suddenly felt like Voldemort had cut out their hearts and ripped through the strongest part of the muscle with his bare hands.

**Reviews please! hope you all forgive me for this :(**


	23. Chapter 23

**Sorry it's been so long, when I tried to upload it gave me a little error message...either 2 or 22, can't remember! :(**

**Disclaimer: anything you recognise from the books belongs to J. K. :)**

**This one's dramatic :P**

**Chapter 23**

_Hermione,_

_I know I promised. So if it sounds agreeable to you we will have lunch in my rooms after the match today - if you don't mind missing some of the inevitable party (not that I am at all overconfident and supportive of my house over Slytherin...no preference shown!)._

_If you can't or would rather not attend please send a letter back with my owl._

_Minerva_

Hermione smiled at the elegant eagle owl, which had one beady eye fixated on her. "It's okay, I'll be there." She told it, poking her bacon rind towards it and proffering her goblet of pumpkin juice. It ruffled its feathers regally and accepted both, before gliding silently away.

Hermione turned to see Ginny accepting a letter off Boo, who nipped her fingers affectionately and rubbed her head against Ginny's upper arm. Hermione smiled a small smile tinged with sadness and turned away to face the slightly less welcome sight of a greenish Ron being cajoled to eat by a drawn and strained-looking Harry. As she turned, Hermione saw a glint of something disappear into Harry's pocket before he picked up Ron's goblet and forced it into his hands. "Drink up, at least." He muttered.

Something about his mannerism made Hermione instantly suspicious.

"The weather's perfect, and the Slytherin keeper's injured, and Malfoy isn't playing...it's all looking perfect. Lucky, huh?"

Hermione's mind registered that last word – _lucky. _Hm.

* * *

Ginny read through the cheerful letter from her parents and felt a slight tingling warmth within her which quickly identified itself as pleasure and relief that they were okay. She remembered the many headlines that had greeted her over the last two months and shuddered, thinking of poor Hannah Abbott. The warmth intensified.

As she got up from the table and walked towards the doors, Boo securely perched on her shoulder, Ginny paused to speak in Harry's ear.

"I'll be there soon, just gotta pop upstairs."

Harry nodded absently, now trying to force-feed Ron toast. Ginny shook her head, despairing; the Weasleys had tried for years to stop Ron's humumgous appetite. Now here Harry was, trying to encourage it.

Ginny stumbled up the marble staircase, planning to just grab a few quiet moments before the match; the common room was bound to be empty. She was still reeling from the shock of the night before, and although Hermione would never walk upstairs hand-in-hand with her even if they were still together, her hand tingled sadly and she felt like her little fire had been put out. She gingerly held the palm of her hand against her ribs, and felt the beat of her heart. A few songs came back to her, lyrics that she couldn't put a name or singer to – they were Muggle songs, from Hermione's little music player thing. Although it didn't work at Hogwarts she had used it a lot at the Burrow and it had fascinated Ginny, with it's little screen and circular touch-pad.

The lyrics tangled in her head and she carefully began to separate the songs:

_The silence isn't so bad, 'til I look at my hands and feel sad, 'cause the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly..._

_I heard the sound of a broken heart, I still feel the pain, I heard the sound of a broken heart, it still beats the same..._

_But if your heart is cold, my sheets are warm, I will shelter you, all through the storm..._

_Somethin' always brings me back to you, it never takes too long; no matter what I say or do, I'll still feel you here – 'til the moment I'm gone..._

Ginny sighed and started up the next staircase. "Just hope she comes back..." She whispered, thinking about the last song she had remembered and its lyrics.

* * *

Hermione rubbed her hands together and stamped her feet as the crowd began to dissipate. Gryffindor had won, completely flattening Slytherin, and Hermione had seen Professor McGonagall jumping up and down happily. She had caught her eye a moment later and could have sworn the woman had blushed at being caught.

Hermione ran down to catch Harry, planning to confront him about the Felix Felicis he had slipped into Ron's juice.

* * *

Hermione knocked on the familiar door, scenes from after the match still playing double-time through her head. Harry hadn't really put the potion in Ron's drink, but Ron thought he had – so he played well, thinking he was going to be lucky. Ron had taken offense at Hermione's questioning (only after he realised the little bottle was still sealed) and now wasn't speaking to her – and Harry wasn't speaking to Dean, for some reason. Hermione shook her head as the happy-sounding "come in!" broke her reverie and she pushed the door open, smiling at her favourite teacher as she was beckoned through to a small study/living area. Having never seen a teacher's private quarters before she looked around with interest, taking in the photographs and paintings around the walls.

Minerva sat herself down on the little sofa and pulled the coffee table closer, a pot of tea and two mugs sat on it. "Tea?" she checked and Hermione blushed, nodding. She noted the tartan biscuit tin perched atop the Daily Prophet and smiled, thinking of the Ginger Newts the Head of Gryffindor was so partial to, but her smile faded as she remembered suddenly why she was here. She took her proffered cup and smiled her thanks, taking a sip and savouring the flavours bursting in her tongue – she didn't get to drink tea very often as it wasn't served in the Great Hall.

Looking around again Hermione saw eight photographs of Albus, Minerva, Marlene and combinations thereof; there was also a landscape of rolling hills and a lake, with a house sprawled on the hillside.

"Like it?" Minerva asked. Hermione jumped; the woman was studying her, head on one side, smiling ruefully. Hermione nodded.

"It's lovely." She said simply, setting down her cup and standing up to examine it more closely, noticing as she did so the chilled attitude of her teacher. Her usually stern face was relaxed, tall and tense posture gone, feet curled beneath her as she sat sideways on the settee facing the space Hermione had just vacated. Smiling inwardly, glad she was happy to show her – vulnerability? Laxity? – to her without feeling humiliated. She turned her attention back to the painting; it was an original, a soft watercolour, signed and framed beautifully, and it was huge.

"Who painted it? It's fantastic, so much detail..." Hermione was examining the tiny leaf-laden trees, the reflection in the lake, the minute details painted to perfection, the huge range of colours – more greens than she even knew existed. She looked up to see Minerva's face flush at the compliment. Surprised, she blushed too and returned to her seat.

"I did." Came the reply, explaining the red glow. "I'm glad you like it...art's a guilty pleasure of mine."

"Guilty? It is not! It's fantastic, what else have you drawn?"

"Not that much." Minerva admitted. Hermione smiled.

"You should." She told her, still amazed at this new nugget of knowledge. She received a small but appreciative smile, and a new cup of tea, in return.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Hermione asked gently. She shifted to mirror Minerva's position, one leg tucked beneath her and one foot still on the ground, as her teacher pulled in a deep breath. Absently she flicked her fingers upwards and her hairpins flew away to the table, Hermione watching as the tightly-coiled bun uncoiled to reveal glossy ebony locks that waved into loose curls at the shoulder blades. Minerva massaged the place where one of the pins had been; she was clearly thinking about how to word whatever was on her mind.

"I...told you that I wasn't prepared to find anyone other than Albus, and that he fell in love. With someone else."

Hermione nodded sympathetically. "He's still in love..." She whispered again, echoing her words from weeks ago. She placed her tea on the table and reached out for Minerva's, which she was now twisting together sharply. She took one in each of her own, ignoring the awkwardness of the situation, as the raven-haired witch's olive eyes filled slowly with tears.

"Aye, he is." She replied sadly. Hermione was surprised to hear her crisp and perfect English accent fall away, probably because of the emotional stress she was now under, revealing a pleasant and natural Scottish lilt that suited her perfectly. Even more surprising than this was the word, _aye_ – Hermione wouldn't have believed it if someone told her she would one day hear Minerva McGonagall say that.

"Is he...married?" Hermione tried.

"The one he loves is in Azkaban, captured after losing a duel." Hermione heard the accent more than ever and hurriedly committed this new Minerva to memory.

"A duel? With who? Imprisoned for what?" Hermione was surprised.

"A duel wi' Albus. And, th' album told'ya he wasna a good lad back then, 'nd I doubt he willa changed."

Hermione was even more surprised at this. "Albus...I mean, Professor Dumbledore, he duelled the one he loved? And, told me who was bad, Dumbledore?"

"Aye, he did, at the request of the wider wizarding community in light of his antics. And nay, not Dumbledore, the man he fell in love with."

Hermione paused. "Oh. I see." She mumbled. She remembered Ginny's predictions. _Two out of three_, she thought. "So, he never married because..."

"He was and is in love, and 'cause even if he found some'n else there isna a marriage celebration available for'm to take part in." Minerva whispered, tear tracks creating sparkling lines on an otherwise ashen face. "He didna want to duel, he waited as long's he could...but even Albus canna ignore th' whole world, and love canna make him."

Hermione felt a tear slide down her own face as she imagined having to duel Ginny and throw her into jail for a lifetime. "It isn't fair." She whispered.

"Life isna fair, lass, it willna ever be. An' Albus, he hasna yit forgiven hiself..."

Hermione listened to the strong brogue, loving the way the words were formed and feeling the sorrow pull at her insides. There was a short silence, in which Hermione suddenly realised that she had thought of Ginny as the one she loved without batting an eyelid...trying to hide her sudden discomfort she kept hold of Minerva's hands and looked directly into her eyes even as more tears spilled out, comforting her with presence and touch rather than words; and then the moment was shattered as a terrifying scream broke the air. Hermione froze, wide-eyed, as it was followed quickly by a second.

Minerva ripped her hands away, grabbing up her wand and dashing away the tears. Two waves later her beautiful long hair was again coiled at the base of her neck and all trace of upset was gone, hidden both behind a spell and by the hurriedly rebuilt walls within herself.

"Come on, lass!" she beckoned, already at the door, and Hermione followed, pleased that the language and accent hadn't gone yet. She liked it.

She wiped away her own tears as they ran together out of the office and towards the sound.

* * *

The game over, Ginny headed to the party with a slightly lighter heart than she had had before it. It still hurt, but it was muffled slightly; she threw herself into the celebrations, determined to drown it out further and enjoy celebrating a fantastic victory.

Later, Boo swooped into the common room just as a fourth-year tumbled through clutching and juggling with several packs of butterbeer. Grinning despite herself, Ginny watched the boy make his way carefully towards a table to put the drinks down – by the time he got to it there were only two packs left.

Boo nipped her ear and hooted softly to let her know she was waiting, and Ginny snapped awake to take the note. It was short but sweet.

_Well played, Ginny – I actually enjoyed the match, which is a first. Sorry I'm missing the party but I can't cope with the crowds right now. _

_Congratulations to the team, and you looked great out there._

_~ H_

Ginny ran a finger down her owl's silky-smooth feathers and Boo hooted sleepily in response, her haunting _boo boo boo_ echoing throughout the circular room which was currently draped in red and gold floor to ceiling. A few people turned, startled, but Ginny barely noticed. She walked to the portrait hole, fending off many attempts to feed her, provide her with a drink or engage her in conversation, a plan firmly in mind.

_A walk to the Owlery, and then the library. Hermione will be there, and the walk will clear my head._

Ginny set off up the first set of stairs, feeding Boo the remains of a pumpkin pasty and popping a Fizzing Whizzbee in her own mouth.

Part-way up the second staircase, Ginny felt it shudder and then grind into movement, swinging through the air. She rolled her eyes, sighing, and continued to the top to wait for it to join another part of the floor – the wrong part, of course, so she'd be detouring. Ugh - typical. She gripped the marble banister and waited for the transition to finish.

Then a sharp sting suddenly erupted on the left side of her back just as something wrapped itself around her ankles, and she tumbled headlong onto the stairs. As Boo jumped into the air, screeching wildly, Ginny recognised the Stinging Hex and the Trip Jinx and thought she heard a laugh as she rolled to lessen the impact – and hit the top stair...sobbing with the frightening realisation of what was going to happen, Ginny flailed her arms in an effort to prevent the inevitable...but suddenly there was no resistance beneath her and she was falling. She let out a blood-curdling shriek and all the breath left her lungs as she plummeted down past the many floors of her world-famous school.

**Oh no! Review please :) next update won't be for a couple of weeks :( **


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: anything you recognise from the books belongs to J. K.**

**Sorry it has been a while, people...Thank you for all the feedback, you guys :) keep reading!**

**Chapter 24**

Minerva looked blankly at Ginny, lying awkwardly on the stone floor a level below, wondering distantly how she had fallen. Then she was snapped back to the present and the urgency of the situation as Hermione stumbled to a halt beside her and gasped, tears leaking out, as she saw Ginny below her.

The redhead's flaming hair was fanned spectacularly around her face and her wrist was bent strangely. Her robes were tangled about her, singed on the back, and rope was tied around her ankles. A stain spread on her arm soon identified itself as blood and Hermione's horror, taking all this in and processing it in a split second, quickly became apparent on her face.

Minerva pulled herself together and whipped out her wand. Of course very few people would be out of their common rooms due to the celebrations – even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw celebrated such good victories. She pointed her wand upwards and a silvery tabby cat streaked away to find Poppy Pomfrey, and then she was off; she told Hermione to stay with Ginny for a while, before she changed into her own tabby form and vanished from sight.

Hermione thundered down the stairs to Ginny and threw herself down beside her, noting the silence of this particular floor and all the closed classroom doors. Even the portraits were few and far between, and only one had an occupant at present – a fat old man with a white curly wig, who was asleep. Hermione noted the many bottles and glasses in front of him and predicted (if portraits could feel pain,) a major headache when he woke.

Hermione smoothed the fiery hair away from the beautiful face and performed the counter-curse for _incarcerous_, watching as the ropes fell away from Ginny's ankles and disintegrated into dust. She checked over every inch of the toned athletic body, finding her wrist fractured and the bone piercing the skin – the source of the blood – and a nasty-looking lump on her head. From what she could see, although she was no Healer, the head-wound was the most dangerous – and it was big. She felt tears moisten her cheeks as she pulled the girl closer to herself, and Madam Pomfrey came hurrying grimly around the corner armed with her wand.

"What happened?" she snapped, kneeling down by Ginny.

Hermione sobbed harder, but choked out, "No – idea...heard screams, found her like this..."

"Where is Minerva?"

Hermione shrugged helplessly, wiping her face, and heard a soft, familiar call.

_Boo boo boo boo boo..._

She glanced around and felt a slight pressure light upon her shoulder, where Ginny's owl pierced an eye with her own and stared unblinkingly into it.

Hermione only looked away when a sharp movement alerted her to where she was and why, and she looked round to find Ginny levitating around three feet from the floor.

"I'm going to have to Apparate us there; I'm not floating her through corridors like this..."

Hermione opened her mouth to recite _Hogwarts: A History_, but Madam Pomfry called out.

"Dobby?" the house elf appeared almost immediately with a loud crack and smiled up at Hermione, bat-like ears lifting in recognition as he squeaked "Hermione, nice to see you!" in his unusual (for a house-elf) familiar tone. Then he turned and realised the situation. Wordlessly he reached out his hands for Poppy, who was holding onto the still-floating Ginny, and Hermione, who in some subconscious part of her mind noted happily that Dobby had all the clothes he could ever want – including a large number of pairs (or not, as the case may be,) of socks, making his feet look huge, and at least six of her own knitted hats in place of his usual tea-cosy.

* * *

Ron looked up from his brooding and caught Harry's eye. He smirked; he'd been cornered by Romilda Vane, and looked less than happy about it.

Speaking of which...it was time to put that plan of his into action. He looked around and spotted his target; Lavender Brown was chatting to Parvati Patil, and seemed completely engrossed – but Ron could swear she looked hurriedly away when he cast his eyes towards her.

* * *

Harry found his gaze again directed at Dean and clenched his fists with an angry sigh. He knew fighting wouldn't get him anywhere – for Ginny, he just had to be good. The best thing would be to watch them both as much as he could to make sure they were okay, and not too close or alone...for Ginny. To protect her. The thought gave him more strength than his own willpower alone and he turned around with a massive effort, walking over to get another butterbeer, still wondering about Ginny's last comment to Dean: "I'm not single, you idiot!" _It must've been a lie, to get him off._ He thought to himself. _Yes, that would be it._

* * *

Hermione flung herself heavily down in the chair closest to the head of Ginny's bed in the hospital wing while Madam Pomfry checked her out, holding onto her uninjured hand as if it were the last anchor holding the ship in a raging storm. She never once took her eyes off Ginny's pale freckled face, determined to absorb every tiny detail; and all of a sudden she knew exactly what she wanted.

When Poppy bustled off to fill some sort of goblet with a nasty concoction, Hermione shuffled closer to the bed. _Open mind_, she reminded herself. Squeezing Ginny's fingers in her own she leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to the younger witch's, savouring the soft silkiness. And every part of her screamed _right, right, right!_

She sat back, keeping her hand around Ginny's, and blushed as she noticed the tabby cat on the second chair. The square markings around its eyes were more than distinctive and even clearer because it was so purposely looking away. Hermione's blush intensified but she automatically reached out her free hand. The cat purred and rubbed its head against her hand, swishing its tail, and Hermione scratched its head almost absently – forgetting for a moment that the cat was in fact Minerva McGonagall.

Hermione heard the door to Madam Pomfry's office slam and feet hurry towards her and the cat – wait. On the second chair sat Minerva McGonagall; Hermione blinked stupidly down at her left hand, which was resting on her Professor's knee. She felt heat rush to her face and throughout the rest of her body as she quickly removed it and placed it with her left over Ginny's.

Hermione watched in silence as the school matron magically reinserted the bone, threaded the splinters back together and re-knitted the skin; it took a long time. Hermione sat still, wishing more than anything that the girl in the hospital bed would wake. Almost as if she read her mind, Madam Pomfrey quickly checked the now-healed wrist and then retrieved her wand from the bedside table.

"_Renervate."_ She said calmly, pointing the wand at Ginny's chest. Her eyes fluttered and Hermione held her breath, barely registering the comforting hand placed on her arm by Minerva.

"'Mione?" Ginny croaked, pushing herself up. Poppy tutted but helped her, and handed her a glass of water. Ginny's hand went up to her head and her eyes opened wider. "Ouch." She muttered.

* * *

Ron jumped as the otter plumped down on the rug before him.

"Come to the hospital wing, bring Harry." It said before dissolving into bluish silver smoke. Ron frowned; he was enjoying himself, twined in a chair with Lavender Brown and surrounded by the still-ongoing party.

Sighing, he pulled himself up. Hermione wouldn't have asked if it wasn't important; seeing Lavender's confused and disappointed face he made a split-second decision.

"Come on. Got to go, but you and Harry can come." He told her, wrapping his hand around hers and pulling her over to where Harry was sat with a butterbeer in each hand.

"Hermione needs us, mate." He nodded to the portrait hole. Harry sighed and handed his drinks to Neville and Seamus.

* * *

Hermione and Ginny looked around as the door opened and Harry walked swiftly in, followed by a happy-looking Ron who was holding hands with Lavender. Minerva was long gone and Poppy had promised to be back within the hour to ensure they all got some sleep.

Ron stopped dead when he saw his sister lying under the crisp white covers. The colour drained from his face as he ran towards her, skidding to a halt a couple of paces away.

"What..."

"Ron, I'm fine."

"I...Ginny, if you were fine you wouldn't be here." Ron glanced at Harry, who looked concerned, and Lavender, who looked awkward, and then down to where Hermione's and Ginny's hands were still intertwined on the bed. At that exact moment Hermione couldn't have cared less, but Ron ploughed on. "Can I have a word with my sister please? Alone?" he asked.

Hermione looked at Ginny. She nodded her head a tiny amount, and Hermione withdrew her hand, standing up to leave. Harry and Lavender followed and as soon as the door shut, Harry demanded to know what had happened. Hermione sighed.

"I don't know, Harry, Minerva's looking into it." She mentally berated herself for using the newly acquired first-name basis in front of the others but besides looking surprised they said nothing.

Finally Ron opened the door, looking angrily at Hermione. He gestured for the others to go in and held Hermione back, shutting the door. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, voice low and threatening.

"I did, Ronald – the otter, remember? My Patronus?" Hermione wasn't in the mood to argue.

"I meant before. Ginny says you've been here ages."

"Guess I didn't get round to it." she sighed, remembering the intense conversation the girls had shared. Her little fire had rekindled and she no longer felt the gaps between her fingers so keenly; she was whole, and she liked the feeling. She loved the redheaded girl lying on that hospital bed, and she knew she would never leave her unless it was for a very good reason – she knew this wasn't a teenage crush. She – they – were in love. Finally, she realised what she hadn't before.

She had told Ginny all of that.

Catching back onto the current conversation, Hermione followed Ron's angry outburst patiently.

"...sister, I have to know!"

Hermione snapped, feeling the dam walls cave as the anger flowed through like water, faster than thought. "Yes, and she's my girlfriend Ronald, and anyway I found her! Minerva and I did! I didn't tell you because I knew you'd be like this, I don't see you being very bothered about Lavender being here..."

Ron gaped at her, and repeated the only word that sank in. "Girlfriend?"

"Get over it, Ron. Yes, girlfriend. Please don't tell your parents – that's the plan for this Christmas."

Ron flared up, letting his heartache rule his actions as the girl he loved announced she was dating his sister. "And why shouldn't I, Hermione? What's to stop me owling them right now?"

Hermione flailed her arms impatiently. "Nothing! We'd just rather you didn't!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Girlfriend, as in...?" he asked, just to clarify.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Ron, it's not hard; I love her, she loves me, going out, dating, lovers, kissing..."

Ron put his hands over his ears. "Okay, okay, okay." He lowered his hands and looked around, checking the empty corridor was indeed empty. "So, my sister's a dyke? Eugh."

Hermione felt the tears overflow her eyes as she slapped him, hard, on the cheek. "Don't talk about her like that!" she hissed, tears blurring her vision.

"Why not? It's true, it makes her no better than Slytherins really does it? Ooh, Malfoy'll have a field day with this...blood traitor dyke dating mudblood dyke..."

"I would expect that from others, Ron, but not you. I could even understand you saying it about me, in a fit of your famous protectiveness. But about your sister?" Hermione whispered calmly yet dangerously. Her expression was deep sorrow, regret, sadness – but her eyes were steely and hard.

Ron felt her words bite deep into him and he knew he didn't really mean what he had said. Hermione was right – damn her and her cleverness – he was just being protective. He was also seriously annoyed. He had gone to all the trouble of getting together with Lavender (who was becoming the most annoying, clingy person he'd ever met) to make Hermione jealous, to want him, and now he found out she was both already taken and not interested even if she was single? No, he wasn't letting this go. He forced himself to shrug nonchalantly, enjoying Hermione's shocked and upset expression before him, enjoying making her understand a little of what she had done to him...

Hermione whipped out her wand, blinking away the blinding salty liquid, and flicked it. Ron flinched, and then looked up at the birds she conjured in confusion; but he said nothing as she walked slowly and deliberately to the door of the hospital wing. When she got there she turned and stood for a second, just looking at him; then, quite suddenly, she flicked her wand again. "Oppugno!" she shrieked, before slamming the door behind her, muffling a sob.

* * *

Minerva sat down at her desk and rubbed her temples gently, pulling off her glasses and squeezing her eyes shut against the throbbing of a persistent headache.

So...Miss Weasley remembered laughter, but there was no way she could place it, and there were no witnesses – even the portraits had found themselves suddenly blindfolded. One thing that did prove: the attack was indeed an attack, not an accident, and was performed with malicious intent.

Sighing, she lifted her head and glanced around to the clock, thinking it was probably time to get some sleep. For now all enquiry attempts had been thwarted, and she was more than ready for bed. The clock confirmed this, yawning and telling her quietly, "one-thirty, Minerva. To bed, or you won't be up to teaching tomorrow...today...later on. Whatever." It yawned again and settled, creaking, onto the mantelpiece.

Also yawning, Minerva dragged herself to her bedroom and shut the door, mind still whirring. There must have been something she'd missed...

* * *

Hermione slammed her hand on the table, making several first-years jump. "Boo!" she shouted angrily, earning her a few confused looks until the perpetrators realised the object of her annoyance was in fact the comical spectacled owl which was currently pecking softly at her upper arm.

"Boo boo boo..." the bird replied, fixing her with a beady glare. When Hermione rolled her eyes and reached again for her quill, the chocolate-and-white owl resumed her pecking on the outstretched arm. Irked, Hermione slammed her quill onto the parchment, tutting at the resulting spray of ink, and stood up.

"_What?"_ she snapped. The owl glided over to the portrait hole and sat, unmoving, watching her intently. Hermione sighed and followed, wondering as she did so whether the few confused-looking Gryffindors behind her were right in thinking she was crazy. _Probably,_ she thought – _and they'd think I was even crazier if they knew even half of the story. _She was glad it was the weekend – few people were up this early.

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	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: anything you recognise from the books belongs to J. K.**

**sorry it's been so long! :/**

**enjoy! it's a little short...feedback please!**

**Chapter 25**

Minerva jumped and sat up a little straighter as she heard a quick, panicky knock on her door. The clock, sensing her question, called, "A little early, Minerva. Seven-fifteen."

Minerva nodded her thanks, frowning slightly. "Come in." She called calmly, hoping her tone would soothe whoever was in such a hurry.

The door opened and Hermione's bushy brown hair appeared around it, preceded by a very strange-looking owl. Minerva frowned at the girl, wondering at her appearance in her office; Hermione in turn was frowning at the owl.

"Miss Granger?" Minerva asked finally. Hermione jumped and looked around, missing the broad Scottish brogue immediately as she heard the crisp question.

"Professor, I'm so sorry – Boo wouldn't leave me alone. She pecked me until I followed her out of the common room. Every time I tried to go back she shrieked and it was horrible, so I figured it couldn't do any harm..."

"And she brought you here?" Minerva finished, a question in her voice. Hermione nodded, and Boo sent her strange haunting cry through the room. The stern-looking woman jumped and spun around, taking Hermione by surprise, and fixed her eyes on the chocolate-and-white owl now perched on the window-sill.

"A spectacled owl..." Hermione barely heard the whisper.

"Yes, Professor. I bought her for Ginny in the summer, but her mum gave her to her – in fact I don't think Ginny knows yet that it was me."

At this Minerva smiled. "See, you loved her even then. Anyway – what do you know about these owls?"

Again Hermione frowned. "That they're quite rare in the UK. Nothing much, really."

"What of their names?"

"It must be spoken to the owl and only to the owl by the owner before anyone else hears it."

"Yes." The Professor nodded, looking over her rectangular spectacles at the girl before her – the girl she had come to trust and almost admire. She inwardly shook her head at her own thoughts and continued the little 'lesson'. "Do you know why?"

Hermione shook her head.

"The naming creates a sort of bond between owl and owner, one which no other species of owl are able to conjure. Spectacled owls are the most magical creatures known to Muggles besides wolves."

Hermione blinked. "So, what are you saying?"

"This owl -" Boo called again, and Hermione laughed.

"She's telling you her name!"

Professor McGonagall smiled. "_Boo_,"she corrected herself, "is bonded with Ginny - irrevocably bonded until either of their deaths. But her magic can be used in other ways, and I think Boo can act as a witness to the incident yesterday."

Hermione stood frozen in place, shocked and unable to believe it – trying not to get her hopes up. "How?"

"Not sure." Minerva mumbled, stepping towards the owl. Hermione smiled, recognising the returned Scottish accent, and watched as Minerva reached out a hand and Boo stepped onto it, spreading her wings for balance. She shied away from the wand-tip directed towards her, flapping her wide wings madly, and Minerva quickly laid it on the desk and stepped back from it. Boo relaxed; Hermione watched even more carefully.

Her thoughts were racing. She – an _owl_ – knew that Minerva McGonagall was the one who needed to know anything about Ginny's attack, and where she stayed? Hermione knew birds, especially owls, were clever – but that was just amazing.

Hermione watched in confusion as her teacher suddenly grew still, staring unblinkingly at a point about halfway up the stone wall. Hermione, confused, looked from that point and back to her teacher, before carefully stepping into Minerva's line of sight. She got no response and was about to take hold of Minerva's shoulder, when she realised that Boo's eyes were shut and she was leaning forwards a little, wings spread, almost as if she were flying despite still being stood on Minerva's outstretched arm.

Standing still, Hermione pushed down her growing alarm and watched with interest, realising that Minerva's eyes were also closed.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, Minerva screamed – a dreadful, hair-raising shriek similar to the two they had heard while drinking tea on the day Ginny fell.

Hermione jumped and stared at her as her eyes flew open, scream dying on her lips almost as soon as it woke, and she stared forwards with unseeing eyes.

"Harper." She whispered.

Hermione blinked and frowned. "Professor?"

Minerva jumped and looked back to Hermione, arm falling exhaustedly to her side as Boo took off to land again on the window sill. "Hermione, I'm so sorry." Minerva breathed, sinking into a chair. "That...took me by surprise. Boo showed me the whole scene, from her point of view...three dimensions. I could swear I was there, riding on Ginny's shoulder, sensing movement behind me...sensing her annoyance when she stepped onto the staircase and it moved, and her panic when the jinxes hit and she realised she was going to fall..."

Hermione, already surprised by the casual use of Ginny's chosen nickname, noted with even more surprise the shiver at the end of this little speech. She watched as Minerva seemed to snap awake again, eyes coming back into focus, re-straightening her back.

"Harper? The Slytherin Seeker?" Hermione prompted. Minerva nodded grimly.

"A sore loser, endangering the lives of students on the Gryffindor Quidditch team following yesterday's fantastic defeat."

Minerva looked disgusted, and Hermione was suddenly glad she didn't have to deal with such pure anger. She grinned inwardly at the favouritism towards the winners, her own house, but chose not to comment. The situation was much too serious for that – and in thinking this, her eyes filled with angry tears. She clenched her fists.

"Professor, was it...was it that bad?"

"Minerva, please, Hermione. What makes you think it was so bad?" Minerva asked gently.

"The way you spoke of it then, the tone of pure anger, and you shivered...and the scream."

"It...it was quite bad, Hermione, yes. Can you imagine a split second of pure terror, knowing you are about to fall at least a floor down onto solid stone and yet being unable to do anything about it? Of course she screamed. The first scream though was Boo."

"That makes sense." Hermione nodded, wiping her eyes hurriedly. "But I meant your scream, Minerva." She added softly. She had a feeling that Minerva wasn't aware of anything that had happened while she was watching the scene through again.

Minerva moved over to the window and opened it, letting Boo soar out. At Hermione's words, she turned sharply. "I did not scream, Hermione. One was Ginny's, one her owl's."

Hermione shook her head. "Not then. Just now...it was horrible."

Minerva sat down carefully. "I screamed...while I had Boo on my arm? While I was watching the whole scene?"

Hermione nodded, unable to prevent another couple of tears sliding slowly down her cheeks. Minerva's own eyes filled with tears of guilt and worry as she pulled Hermione to her in a firm, comforting hug; Hermione felt surprisingly strong arms encircle her, crushing her into Minerva's slim form, and after only a slight hesitation Hermione hugged her back fiercely, feeling tears flow freely down her face and feeling Minerva's pool onto her shoulder.

* * *

Hermione smiled as a tabby cat popped its head around the hospital wing door and gave the cat version of a grin, before withdrawing quickly. Gently disentangling her fingers from the sleeping Ginny's, Hermione walked to the window; she could see the silhouette of the hulking Slytherin captain in the dusk light, being escorted to the gates by his equally large father. Expulsion...Hermione couldn't help doing a little celebratory jig, before pulling out parchment from the draw in the desk at the end of the room. She wrote a quick note to Ginny, telling her of this new development, and left quietly. Curfew was approaching.

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	26. Epilogue 1

**Disclaimer: anything you recognise from the books belongs to J. K.**

**EPILOGUE**

CHRISTMAS- 7 WEEKS LATER (ISH)

Ginny smiled into her girlfriend's hair as she felt her stir beside her.

"Wakey wakey, sweetheart. Merry Christmas."

Hermione stirred again, grumbling, and rolled towards Ginny. She opened her eyes to see Ginny's look right back into her own and smiled.

"World's best wake-up call..." she mumbled against Ginny's lips, and then pulled herself up.

In pyjamas and dressing gowns, the girls padded barefoot downstairs to where Mrs Weasley had a roaring fire going in the lounge and where many a tousle-haired Weasley yawned on the assorted chairs. Everyone was here with the obvious exception of Percy, although it seemed Harry and Ron were still in bed, as was Charlie; everyone else crowded the little living room, Fleur included. Hermione noticed that the wireless was turned off and Fleur was sat close by; she smiled, remembering the disastrous attempt by Mrs Weasley to uphold tradition and listen to Celestina Warbeck's warbling. Fleur's face had been a picture.

Christmas dinner was a lively, colourful affair because everyone was sporting the usual Weasley sweater (besides Fleur) and the presents had been particularly good. The food was as lovely as ever and everyone was happy, but Hermione and Ginny were quiet; and when Mrs Weasley finally waved her wand to clear the table and went to light the pudding, Ginny wrapped her hand around Hermione's and stood up self-consciously, a blush already forming on her cheeks and her heart pounding.

* * *

There was a long silence, and then everyone started talking all at once after Hermione and Ginny finally announced their news. Now the only one who seemed unhappy was Ron – even Harry was putting on a very good facade of being happy for them. Hermione's fingers kept creeping up to her neck, where a delicate silver heart lay warm against her skin; having received it that morning she was determined not to remove it, ever. Finally Mr Weasley called a congratulatory toast and Hermione's face split into a wide smile, which Ginny soon mirrored. They had been accepted! No more sneaking around – only Hogwarts and Mr and Mrs Granger left to worry about. Hermione decided in that moment that she didn't care what people at Hogwarts thought, and news would never get from there back to her parents anyway, so they had time to prepare. She hoped fiercely, with all her heart, that her parents would be okay with it.

* * *

Ginny was drifting off in front of the fire, fingers tightly gripping the locket around her neck, feeling the cool smoothness of the silver oval, the intricate flower engraving, and the fine chain, and vowing to never take it off. She relaxed further into her girlfriend, where they were curled up on the armchair; after the magnificent dinner, a walk and some Quidditch, and one of the girls' best ever Christmas days, all the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Fleur were quietly sitting in the living room, staring into the flames and dozing.

Hermione didn't think her day could get any better. Her and Ginny were curled up in a single armchair in front of all those she considered family, and discounting Ron they all simply smiled. Hermione felt a warm contentedness lodge in her chest even as a fizzing ball of excitement and pure delight infected her lower stomach. She fought for a moment to recognise it, but blushed as she did so.

* * *

Minerva sat up straight and blinked, hard, as she felt her eyes drifting closed again. She heard Albus chuckle and dug her fingernails into her thigh, shaking herself awake.

Fawke's call echoed hauntingly through the headmaster's rooms as snow danced against the window, and Albus lifted his glass.

"Merry Christmas, Minerva." He raised the glass to her and took a sip. Minerva smiled slightly and imitated him, feeling the firewhisky burn a hot trail down her throat into her stomach. Reaching up, she wrapped her fingers around the silver and gold necklace resting on her collarbone, tracing the shape of the charm – long tail, spread wings, delicately carved feathers and long beak. A phoenix. Smiling sadly and wishing things could be different, Albus pretended not to notice.

Later on, Minerva sat on her wide bed and looked around. Catching sight of a piece of parchment on her small bedside table, she allowed herself a coy smile, feeling her cheeks heat up a tiny bit, and reached out to re-read the letter she had received that morning.

_Minerva,_

_Merry Christmas!_

_I know students don't usually buy Christmas presents for teachers but this is both for Christmas and to thank you – for helping me with Ginny, and showing me what a narrow-minded idiot I was, and letting me find myself and happiness...and for giving that idiot Harper what was coming to him! _

_It is also to thank you for trusting me with your own story._

_If you are not comfortable with receiving this as a teacher, then please accept it from a friend. I feel we have become much closer than I ever thought we could recently, and I consider you one of my better friends along with Harry and Ron. _

_So thank you again, and best wishes for a lovely Christmas day._

_With love,_

_Hermione x_

Next to the note was a beautiful model of a little cat, a silvery tabby – with the same square markings around its eyes as Minerva herself had in her Animagus form. As Minerva glanced at it, drawing one finger over its back, it stretched luxuriously and yawned, pink tongue curling out. There was also a hand-sketched picture, with colour, of Minerva herself, relaxing on a blanket in the sun, somewhere hilly, with a book. The hills were every shade of green, reflected in a bluish lake, and the picnic blanket was tartan. On the bottom was a quick note: _I can imagine you like this in your own home, presumably Scotland. _

Smiling again, Minerva tucked the sketch and the letter carefully into her photo album. Then, pulling her wand from her sleeve, she tapped the cover of the little book and muttered something under her breath. Finally, after glancing again at the (yawning) model of the tabby cat, she squeezed her eyes tight shut, concentrating. Again she tapped the book.

Flicking to the last page, Hermione's letter was now ingrained into the thin, crisp white paper, as was the drawing. There was also a memory-image of the cat. Before these was a memory of Hermione and Minerva in the latter's office, sobbing into each other's shoulders; then one of them both comfortably sat on the sofa, Hermione's hands encasing her teacher's with a concerned and saddened look on her face. Before that was a memory of Ginny, spread-eagled on the stone floor, and one of the two girls embracing when Ginny had finally woken up to find Hermione and Minerva with her. Before that, there was a shrunken copy of the painting Hermione had so liked, and before that a little diary entry Minerva herself had written. There was another diary entry at the very end.

Lifting a quill, Minerva quickly penned the last subtitle and blew on it to dry it faster. Closing the book, she tapped the cover and murmured, "Geminio!" Tucking one of the duplicated albums into her draw and keeping the other on her knee. She stroked the cover gently, and then tucked a note into the cover. It was a note of apology for the lateness of the gift, and an advisory statement – she could not accept a gift from her student, and nor could Hermione accept a gift from her teacher. Friends it had to be.

Minerva looked around her private quarters and clucked her tongue; a handsome eagle owl responded, soaring silently over to her from somewhere, and Minerva smiled at him.

"Take this to Hermione." She whispered, stroking him gently. "It's her Christmas present. From her friend."

* * *

**I'm sorry this took so much longer than expected, life's been crazy! Although this is technically the epilogue, I might do a second epilogue at some point – Hermione receiving the gift, and some other stuff too. Not sure if 'second epilogue' is exactly normal, but never mind ;)**

**Please review; let me know what you thought! Feedback please!**

**I have a couple of ideas for a different story. It'll be a long time coming though...**

**Thank you for all the feedback, you guys :) glad you've been with me on this journey, I really appreciate it! Sorry the last few chapters have been so hit-and-miss :/**


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: anything you recognise from the books belongs to J. K.**

**EPILOGUE 2**

BOXING DAY

Hermione woke with a start on Boxing Day morning, jumping away from Ginny onto her own bed as someone knocked on the door. She relaxed, almost sagging with relief, when she remembered that their secret was out – they didn't have to hide any more. Looking over at the still-sleeping redhead, Hermione smiled in amusement – she'd sleep through a hurricane.

"Come in." She called softly as the knocking came again, but the door didn't open. Frowning, she looked around in confusion – only to see a haughty-looking eagle owl tapping impatiently on the window. She shook her head, a smile tugging her lips, as she realised who the owl belonged to – Minerva's pet had never had very good manners.

Standing up a little self-consciously in her pyjamas, she opened the window and shivered as a blast of cold and snowy air hit her. The owl hopped really quite gracefully onto Ginny's messy desk, knocking a pile of parchment flying (it looked suspiciously like Fred and George's order lists…) and ruffled his feathers, depositing snow where the parchment was. He stuck out his leg, and Hermione could have sworn she saw his eye roll. Chuckling quietly, she undid the package – which, to her excitement, was book-shaped. Digging further into the desk, she produced a couple of treats from somewhere and handed them over; they were met with a look of disdain and a nip on the finger, but they went alright. Hermione watched the bird's graceful silhouette disappear into the pre-dawn half-light.

Turning her attention to the package in her hands, Hermione detached the note with difficulty and slit the seal. Unfolding the note, she began to read.

_Hermione, _

_While there was no need for either of your gifts, I thank you for each. My little model is settled on the bedside table and has an uncanny likeness to another cat we know, which I'm sure was your intention – fantastic work; that is a very advanced spell. I love it! As for your drawing…well, who knew you could draw with such skill? And I worry about your capabilities as a legilimens, as it really was quite accurate…_

_I will pretend I didn't hear or read the 'idiot Harper' bit of your note; otherwise, my dear, there is no need to thank me. You would have worked everything out yourself anyway, but it may have taken longer; as it is, you are happy and that is all that matters to me._

_I hope your plans to tell the Weasley family of your relationship with Ginny have been realised and went well; I wouldn't imagine Molly would have any problems, but I don't know about Arthur; I don't know him quite as well._

_I am afraid I am not comfortable receiving your gifts as a teacher; I cannot show favouritism and I try to remain there for my students while also being emotionally a little detached. However I am afraid you scuppered that plan; I will receive them as a friend, as our relationship now goes beyond even mentor and protégé. My trust in you by showing you that photo album should be proof enough of that. _

_Finally, my apologies for this being late; I had the idea late last night and spent a little while finishing it off. I hope you like it!_

_With love from your __friend_, 

_Minerva x_

Hermione couldn't stop the silly smile spreading across her face as she laid the letter aside and reached for the package. Upon opening the photo album, she froze in surprise; them remembering the note she flicked to the back. There, as an addition to her story, Minerva had added memories, photographs and diary entries beginning on Hermione's first day at Hogwarts. Smiling at the first, a memory of all the new (and tiny-looking) pupils, Hermione settled down to read. She blushed with pleasure as she read that Minerva had hoped for her to be a Gryffindor, but expected her to go to Ravenclaw.

* * *

Ron hesitated outside the door, but shrugged inwardly and reached forwards. The envelope slotted easily between the door and doorframe; his sister's door had never hung straight, a fact she made sure to bring up whenever there was the possibility of getting it fixed.

Hermione looked up in surprise when something thudded softly to the floor near the door. Seeing the envelope, she frowned in confusion. Placing the album aside, Minerva's note tucked within it as a bookmark, she reached for it and flipped it over. _Hermione and Ginny_ was written across the parchment in a familiar scrawl…Ron.

Looking over at the still-sleeping Ginny, Hermione shrugged and opened it up. As she read, her eyes widened in disbelief and filled with tears.

_I'm sorry I've been such a git and I'm sorry for not seeing what everyone else did. This doesn't make you bad, just different – I see that now. I can't believe how horrible I've been, and I would understand if you didn't want to forgive me – but that is what I am asking you to do._

_Hermione, I can honestly say that I love you like I love Harry – as the closest friends I have ever had. You mean the world to me, but I couldn't see past everyone else's expectations. Everyone thought that I would be with you in the future, and Harry with Ginny. You ruined that picture, and I was angry about it; but not jealous, not really. I'm sorry for how I treated you._

_Ginny, you're my sister. What can I say? I will always be protective of you, and you didn't do what I expected. It scared me that you hadn't felt able to come talk to me – of course, I can see why now. I am sorry for every insult I threw at you, and I hope that one day soon we will have the relationship we once did._

_To both of you, I hope this hasn't ruined our friendship. I know I sure as hell don't deserve your forgiveness but still, I hope for it. I'm honestly happy for you both, and I only hope that despite my actions I too can find happiness such as yours one day._

_Ron_

* * *

**I'm thinking probably one more. The special epilogue thing is working!**

**Sorry it's been so long, and thank you for the reviews and PMs making me write!**


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